


You Are My Sunshine

by KathyIsWeird



Series: You Are My Sunshine [1]
Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Insufferable Pining, Not Canon Compliant, a n g s t, eventual J/7, non-major character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24582616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyIsWeird/pseuds/KathyIsWeird
Summary: A yearly glimpse into what exactly happens from the time Voyager landed until Seven appears in Picard. Just how much can one ex-Borg handle until she decides to throw in the towel?
Relationships: Kathryn Janeway/Seven of Nine
Series: You Are My Sunshine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1893217
Comments: 139
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not quite canon. Feedback is appreciated! I'm super new to this show so I might get some stuff wrong! This is just a prologue for now. More will be up later once I find someone to beta it for me!

_The other night dear, as I lay sleeping  
_ _I dreamed I held you in my arms_

  
  


_-2400-_

  
  


The obnoxiously loud ticktock of the clock on her desk only added to her already frayed nerves. It bounced off the walls and ricocheted directly into her temporal lobe. Perhaps that late cup of coffee wasn’t the best idea. The slow pulse in the back of her head would soon birth an uncomfortable migraine. If late night replicated coffee was the worst decision she made today, it would be the best outcome. The most probable scenario to happen tonight just happened to be the worst (and most heartbreaking) case. The clock face clicked to green, indicating that the sun was beginning to set. With a quiet whistle, she exhaled slowly. The Academy’s yoga instructor would be so proud of her. That woman was always on her case about breathing from the belly not the sternum. How funny that this was the moment she chose to listen.

Being nervous was natural for her; when she was a Captain, nerves were a ritual. In fact, she almost counted on apprehension to help her make the toughest calls in battle situations. In space, she was relentless, focused. On Earth? She was calm and distant. Nausea had plagued her for the past week though, along with many nightmares she chose not to disclose to even her journal. Sometimes there were feelings she just refused to give words to. 

With a grimace, she kicked her feet onto her desk. The position itself was not comfortable but she wanted to give an air of aloofness. Who was she fooling? No one.

After a few moments and a rather painful reminder that her sacrum was unimpressed, she scooted back and dropped her legs. How did everyone else do this all day? Her knees ached at the hyper-extension. Served her right for trying too hard. A small smudge was left on the desk from the heel of her boot. She would clean it later. It would give her something to do. 

Her hands, unable to remain still, picked at the sleeves of her uniform. She frowned when she felt the give of threads and looked down to see that she had rubbed her sleeve so often today that it had torn. She glared at the hole as if it was a reminder of her fragile unraveling. Frustrated and a little surprised, she sat up out of the chair and began pacing. Exercise would do her well after all the awful sleepless nights she’d had recently. 

The pillows on her bed had seen the worst of it. Every one had been beaten to a pulp. Their poor lumpy bodies reminded her every morning that coping mechanisms were not her strong suit. Even the mirror in her bathroom had incurred her wrath. Her entire life she’d been described as a “hurricane” or whatever weather-themed metaphor her mother could come up with. It wasn’t her fault that the only quality she didn’t inherit from her late father was his rigid cleanliness and discipline. Very rarely was she pushed to the brink of frustration, however these were trying times. The worst part about it? 

_She couldn’t tell a soul._

Her heart pounded as the minutes seemed to crawl, a sticky molasses in the humidity of summer. She was a wreck. Most of it was her being stubborn; showing emotion to those below her only made her seem approachable and if there was one thing she was not fond of it was being approached. She’d experienced too much heartbreak in life to let something like this break her spirit. 

It didn’t matter much anymore. No one could know - something that pained her greatly. The choices she made haunted her to this day. Perhaps some day she could forgive her failures, however she expected no leeway from the person who mattered most. The person who had always mattered. If the population had known just _why_ she had made the choices she had, there would be a statue of her next to the bronzed Voyager that sat just outside the base. Instead she just received sympathetic looks in the mess hall when she chose to dine alone. 

Perhaps she had gotten crotchety in her old age. Old was relative in this day and age. However, she felt like a bag of pine cones that someone strung up as Christmas decorations. Not that she had seen active duty for a while, but somewhere along the way her long runs in the morning acquiesced to jogs and eventually brisk walks. Being an Admiral had little to no physical requirements, unless you wanted to talk about rampant sexism in the way of promotions which were a whole different set of requirements. To be blunt, her job was to sit back and yell towards Captains that required it. Occasionally she supervised a class block on campus. But, the majority of her time was spent on jigsaw puzzles and yelling at the Cadets who insisted on running in her hallway. 

She missed space. She missed exploring. Yes, being known as the woman to bring Voyager home all those years ago was still the highest honor life could give her. But, being alone in the vast world of space with only 150 crewmen was such an anthropological anomaly that words could barely describe it. It was the rush of not knowing what was ahead. It was the disconnect of Earth’s dramatics. Honestly, it was also because no one could yell at her for procrastinating reports in the Delta Quadrant. Perhaps it was a control thing. Maybe it was the opportunity to build her own tight-knit family of outcasts, misfits, and synthetic lifeforms. 

Across the room, her tiny air purifier clicked on, adding a gentle hum to the area. The lights dimmed and the computer chimed in with the time. Well, not so long now. She’d spent years cursing the _vision_ that Admiral Janeway had told her about over twenty years ago. However, everything else her former self had explained to her had actually happened. No matter the outcome of the night, there was no way she was walking away from this unscathed. It had been too long. She was embarrassed. She had failed as a Captain. To do the things she had done, in the name of Starfleet Command was unforgivable. Either she woke tomorrow with a broken heart, or the prediction would play out and she would be stuck with the hardest decision she would ever have to make. No one would understand what predicament she was in except for _her._ That is, if _she_ stayed long enough to explain her reasoning to her. 

A gentle chime played over the speakers and for a moment, Janeway smiled at how familiar it all seemed to be. Even though the circumstances were dire, hope jolted through her heart at the mere chance to see _her_ after all of these years. 

“Enter.” she called with an admirable stability in her voice that she surely did not feel. Her breaths became shallow and her sweaty palms made a frightful sound against the leather of her desk chair. 

Heavy boots against the metal floor announced her guest’s entrance to the anxious Admiral. For a moment, she forgot what was about to happen. Part of her expected Seven to turn the corner in her biometric suit and perfect hair, asking about what she should do about the children crying in the mess hall. To say Janeway missed those days was quite an understatement. It physically hurt to remember those times and the bond they had then. 

Eventually a figure emerged from the shadows and it took everything Janeway had inside not to cry out. The once refined, calculated ex-Borg had been replaced by a rugged warrior with a swagger that only seemed to add to the allure of strength she exuded. Her hair was no longer coiffed perfectly in a pristine bun, but hung in casual waves that framed her beautiful face so well that Janeway actually caught herself staring. She was truly speechless. This is not who she had expected. 

The stone colored implants seemed to have lost their luster, similar to weathered river rocks. Borg machinery had always looked so violent in comparison to Seven’s cherubic features. Her skin had darkened from the sun to a deep autumnal color that seemed to compliment her tousled waves. Her clothes were the biggest change. The earth-toned ensemble looked like something from a mercenary novel. The rips and tears only added the image of lethal capability to the strong woman approaching her.

This was no longer the timid drone she’d embraced in a holding chamber upon Voyager. Weapons were strapped across her chest and in the three seconds she’d allowed herself to stare, Janeway counted over a dozen tactical options. Was this what heartbreak and trauma did to a ex-Borg? Was this even Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One?

“Annika.” 

“My designation is Seven of Nine. You will address me as such.” Her voice struck fear into Janeway’s heart. There was no emotion coming from the woman she’d let down continuously. There would be no grand reconciliation tonight. The woman in front of her stood militant and aware. Shame filled her body and she looked into the cold eyes she’d been dreaming of since she could remember. 

Seven’s face did not fall the way it had in Janeway's dreams. Usually, Seven would crumple into a heap on the floor and beg once again for her not to leave. It struck her profoundly that every reaction she’d anticipated Seven to have was based on the few years she’d known her during and right after Voyager. But, at this point Seven had doubled in age and apparently found methods of staying alive. The woman in front of her did not budge or show any emotion. In fact, if Janeway had not known her _intimately_ then she would have likely assumed Seven to be robotic in all facets of the word. 

Janeway swallowed hard. Everything she’d prepared to say in her years up until this moment floated away and left her dry-mouthed and speechless. There were approximately a billion things she wanted to tell the captivating woman in front of her. However, none of them seemed appropriate. A curt nod was all she was able to manage. She opened her mouth and was promptly cut off by Seven, who walked forward and stood a mere foot from Janeway. 

She tried her best to focus but it was proving to be difficult. The smell of leather and desert dirt was invigorating. It triggered memories of times past that she’d buried for quite a while. 

Seven raised her hand and brushed a strand of hair behind Janeway’s ear. The Admiral began to tremble under the touch, her body disobeying every order she gave it. The look the ex-Borg gave her was hard to gauge but for just a split second, she saw a flicker of the woman she knew. She remembered. She remembered their night together and _goddamn_ that hurt. 

“Admiral Janeway,” Seven whispered as she stepped back away from her. She clasped her hands together in front of her dirt-caked leather pants.

“I wish to die. And I would like you to facilitate it.”

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

_But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken_

_So I hung my head and I cried_

  
  


_-2378-_

The moment she stepped off the dock onto solid ground, she felt something shift. It wasn’t definitively physical, however, _something_ was different. She descended the stairs and exhaled when her boots touched the cement of the large landing strip. For a moment she simply scanned the area, taking in all the scenery around her. It was bright, that would be something she would have to acclimate to. Of course, she’d read as much as possible on the appearance of her supposed home planet. Something she was learning was that books and data did not always convey information the same way experiencing it did. 

Earth was noisy. That would also be quite the transition for her. People were yelling, ships were launching, and in the distance, hovercrafts could be heard beeping at each other. On Earth, there seemed to be many people, all of them capable of being very loud. That wasn’t to say that the Intrepid-class Starship wasn’t prone to bouts of boisterousness, quite the opposite actually. However, on a scale, _Voyager_ was much more organized than this planet. 

Perhaps she was being unfair in her assessment. Her fear of the future was seeping into her critical analysis. She was letting her emotions meddle with logic. 

Unacceptable. 

There were plenty of times on _Voyager_ when the only noises were the hum of the engines for hours on end. On the rare occasion that there was an away mission, the pacing of the Captain paired with the operatic singing of The Doctor made a sort of erratic lullaby. She had caught herself falling asleep to the staccato steps of the Captain many times. If anyone else noticed they didn’t say anything. She could have considered it a nuisance however it was not. After a few days, she’d come to love it. 

Sleeping was still something she was getting used to. It seemed illogical to remain vulnerable for hours at a time. But, there was a good chance that Starfleet would disassemble her alcove upon arrival. So she, B’Elanna, and The Doctor had fashioned a sort-of mobile regenerator. It had been modeled off of 20th-century power tools - something she had not found amusing unlike the rest of her team. 

Energy sparked in her bones but she could not decide if it was welcomed. She inhaled deeply; even air smelled different Earthside. Perhaps she was getting too romantic towards the planet too quickly. 

_Earth._

To her, it was a simple planet amongst the ninety-three billion light-years worth of territory. To others, it was the beginning and end of their lives. Mothers, cousins, lovers, even children reunited with their respective families currently disembarking _Voyager_. It was their home, they had history here. 

She did not. 

Starfleet had shown no interest in her, contrary to what she’d been fed her entire _Voyager_ stay. For years multiple people had assumed she would be selected by the Theoretical Propulsion Group given her knowledge of Warp technology. So far, no one had reached out to her at all. 

Never in her life had she had somewhere to call “home”. Borg needed no home - they needed nothing. That was the point of a collective. However, since her disconnection, she had considered space her home. For quite a while she had been naive enough to think that _Voyager_ was where she would live out her life, that the people who surrounded her every day were her family until the end of time. 

But the camaraderie was temporary. The entire week before they entered the dock on Earth, the crew had been jumping in their seats barely able to keep still with such excitement. She was anxious and quite disheartened to learn that they would be on Earth much earlier than anticipated. It was obvious that her mood directly clashed with the crew, so she remained silent about her feelings. Especially since the Captain seemed positively giddy about their arrival. Their normal meetings and gatherings had been canceled, so she hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to the Captain for at least a fortnight. 

It seemed as if she had just gotten her bearings and secured her place amongst the team. To truly have purpose and be of use was brand new. People actually valued her input and consulted with her on projects. She had a routine, she had inside jokes with people. Even better, she had formed friendships that did not originate through a social experiment of the Doctor’s. 

The number of times someone had come up to her and asked what she had planned for Earth had truly thrown her for a loop. Was she supposed to plan out her future? Until Admiral Janeway had come and educated them on the future, Seven had never thought of life outside of the ship. Now she was presented with a billion different outcomes based upon a billion more factors and to try and figure that all out made her brain ache. A “headache” as she was told. This whole day was a headache. 

They were home, whatever that truly meant. 

At this point in her life, she’d been ex-Borg longer than she had been simply human. Already she was getting curious glances and many parents hugged their children against themselves as if Seven was a danger to them. She was familiar with being ostracized on a small scale but those times were far and few as she became more acquainted with crewmen on all decks of the ship. Would she have to prove herself to every human she encountered? The idea of that was daunting. Who could live like that?

She walked around the large lot, scoping out a place for her to stay and wait for the crowd to disperse. Eventually she found an empty table roughly fifty meters from the docked ship. It was far enough to stay hidden and close enough to keep a watchful eye. It did not help that many in the crowd whispered and stole glances at her. Being under scrutiny was not a pleasant experience and suddenly she had compassion for materials under a microscope. Everyone ran past her into the arms of others. Some picked up children, some embraced spouses. That one hurt the worst. Perhaps this was the cruel fate of the Borg? To finally be back on Earth with no one to miss her. 

_This was a lot to process._

For the first time, Seven saw her deck mates crying tears of joy, rather than sorrow. It was quite a sight. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the Captain with her arms around someone Seven assumed was her mother. Another woman was pulled into the circle, likely a sibling.They danced around, smiles so big they seemed to be infinite. 

Her heart ached; she longed for someone to embrace her in the same way. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, however, she surmised that perhaps this was not the right moment to begin embracing others. 

It was futile. Usually she wouldn’t give thought to such trivial things. However, to be bombarded with the sheer amount of love around her took her to a dark place. She had not felt this alone since she’d been disconnected from the Collective. Even then she had the Captain on her side. The times she had been embraced by the Captain was pivotal to her growth. Even if she was leery over physical displays of affection, the embrace had stirred something in her. It all stemmed from the trembling Captain embracing her in the Brig against all protocol. Even though she had only barely been severed, the act itself impacted her greatly. 

A warm hand landed on her shoulder startling her out of her reverie and as she turned around quickly the sweet face of Icheb greeted her, his cheeks tinted pink as he smiled shyly at her. Quickly she berated herself for feeling so alone when surely she had someone. Pity was good for no one. How quickly she had forgotten that he would be docking with no family as well. 

“Lots of people here, Seven,” He said nervously. “And you’re staring at them as if you wish to deactivate all of them.”

“It is...overwhelming,” She admitted, looking guilty.

“Everyone is walking off now. They have places to be. I don’t know what to do or what to say,” Icheb said softly. He looked downwards and shrugged as if to dismiss the topic. Even though he was in the middle of his teenage years, the admission made him seem like a lost boy. 

For a moment, Seven had forgotten that he was still a child, even though his eyes almost met hers when they spoke. Perhaps he was still growing and would end up larger than her. It had not occurred to her that Icheb would still be able to navigate Earth with relative ease. He would be free from hiding in the shadows to obscure the evidence of his assimilation. 

“You’ve been recruited by the Academy, have you not?” Seven asked, pride thick in her voice. It hurt to know that this child whom she’d taken such a love for, would be off to study in a matter of time. Pride was not something she was used to and she could not decide if it was inherently positive or not. Icheb had made incredible strides while on _Voyager_ though, and everyone had noticed. 

“I have. How did you know?” Icheb took a step back. He made eye contact with Seven and for a moment she thought she would simply lose control of her emotions. The amount of love she had for this boy was unrivaled. She had not bonded with many in her life. She loved Icheb as much as her semi-mechanical heart let her. She had experienced many types of love in her few years on Voyager, but by far this one was the most….innocent. There were no agendas, no red tape. Just a child and his caretaker. 

She had been too inexperienced when One had appeared on Voyager. To say he was a product of an anomaly between her and The Doctor was incredibly misleading. Even so, she had started to bond with him. He was hers to shape and care for, but she had failed. But the experience, as traumatic as it was, had shown her that even if she’d been Borg for most of her life, she could still nurture. It did not have to define her or her abilities. She promised as she held him on the bed in the sickbay that she would do better at the next opportunity. This was that time.

“The Captain asked me to read her letter of recommendation for you. I am...so very proud of you, Icheb,” Seven reached out and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. She gave him a small squeeze, pouring all the affection she could into the small gesture. He gave her a teary smile and for a small moment, Seven let herself be vulnerable. She slid her hand down and tugged his elbow gently, pulling him into an embrace. 

Together they stood with each other, just experiencing a small fraction of what everyone else around them was. The tears came and went. It was nice to be needed, even if it was by a former Borg child she’d somehow acquired along her journey. He loved and trusted her, which was something she desperately needed, even if she’d couldn’t quite vocalize why. 

“Seven!” The moment was broken. 

Seven turned back around and saw the Captain walking quickly towards her. Immediately, her skin flushed and her blood _surged_.

To watch the lithe form march with such _passion_ awakened feelings inside her that made her implants tingle. She never quite understood why the gleam of the pips on the Captain’s collar made her weak. Perhaps it was the same reason that Janeway’s authoritative tone and long legs in her uniform just seemed to take precedence no matter what was happening around her. Seven was only mildly ashamed to say that she also found the Admiral from the future quite attractive in a more austere way. It wasn’t an authoritative infatuation. No, this was more than that.

Much more. 

Before Admiral Janeway had swept through Voyager, Seven and the Captain had spent many a night just...being together. Not romantically, or at least they hadn’t discussed it. Any time the topic of Seven’s love life or sexual experience was called to question, the Captain would bow out of the conversation. Janeway had been even more distant when her own life was the topic of discussion. So, Seven respected her Captain’s wishes and didn’t broach the subject. 

Science didn’t lie though. Human emotions were easy to catalog visually. The Captain’s body lied every time she told Seven that she considered her a great friend and a wonderful shipmate. It was obvious to her that the Captain was at least sexually attracted to her. Perhaps it was a sexual taboo or a personal grievance that kept her from acting on it. 

Janeway had casually mentioned a few times that Seven would make someone happy someday if she chose that life. Sometimes it felt like the Captain truly meant it, normally it felt as if she was being given a sort of unspoken command. Even the Doctor had indicated that she should explore her romantic and sexual preferences in the holodeck. The EMH had even gone so far as to program a variety of suitors for her. What made her suspicious was that they were all male Starfleet officers. It almost felt like she was being fed a half-truth. When she inquired about the very obvious choices offered, she received a shrug and “Captain’s orders!” each time. 

However, she did not want to step on any toes when it came to personale on Voyager, so she picked Chakotay for her experiments. Perhaps it was his safe demeanor, perhaps it was because he was first on the list. Either way, she played along and only recoiled slightly as the praise she was given to do so. She didn’t have the heart to admit to anyone that she was not attracted to the Commander, as charming as he was. It seemed almost infantile to be praised for basic human interaction, truly. 

As the Captain jogged over, Seven noted that the expression on her face was joyful. She had seen this emotion from Janeway only a handful of times, and each time it set her heart on fire. The Captain made it to her, grabbed her hands, and squeezed tightly. Although she held little feeling in her borg arm, she still felt the pressure placed around the metal. The sparkle in Janeway’s eyes was inspiring. In fact, Seven surmised that da Vinci himself would be up in arms over it. 

The Captain moved her hands to cup Seven’s cheeks; that tingle was back again.

“I truly had resigned that our lives would be fated to die with our bodies in space. It was a sour opinion, I’ll admit,” Seven felt a thumb brush over her cheekbone. The Captain nodded behind her at Icheb. 

“Icheb! You’re headed to Starfleet Academy are you not?”

“Yes, Captain. My presence is expected there soon,” Icheb nodded and bowed slightly. “I would like to thank you again for the support.”

“Of course, I hope to see you take the bridge someday.”

“Aye, Captain.” 

Janeway looked back to Seven and gently pulled the ex-borg’s head down to whisper. 

_“When all this dies down, come find me.”_

Before Seven could respond, the Captain had placed two fingers on her lips and walked away. The intimate message had been understood and a blush began to form on her cheeks. Undoubtedly it was just the Captain being joyful and extra affectionate as a result of their good fortune. Even so, that gesture itself set her belly on fire. 

“Are you together?” Icheb asked. “That was kind of romantic!”

She took a moment to ponder her wording; she did not want to misconstrue what was happening. Even though she wasn’t exactly clear on what was happening. Was she overreacting? 

“I am sure we are compatible, but I am not sure what to call it.” Was all she could emote at the moment. It also seemed wise to leave out just how intimately the dominant acts from the Captain affected her. 

“I don’t understand, Seven. But I feel as if you might not either,” Icheb shrugged at her. “Besides, Borg don’t need love. We just need purpose.”

“Perhaps Borg do. We are no longer Borg though. In reality, it does not matter. You have a purpose! You’re going to be a Lieutenant before you even know it!” She changed the subject quickly. Being the center of conversation was unpleasant. 

“When will you leave?” Seven brushed a leaf from the tree above off of his shoulder.

“Tonight. Chakotay is set to escort me to the campus. He is likely waiting for me. I didn’t want to leave without speaking to you. You are the closest thing to a family I have ever had.” 

The admission alone had her very close to tears once more but when the adolescent arms circled her once again and embraced her tightly, she let her emotions out. Icheb sniffed into her clothing and mumbled into her suit. When Seven asked him to repeat himself, he pulled away slightly and looked at her with watery eyes. 

“You’ve been better to me than my other Mother. Could...I maybe write to you?”

 _My other mother._

Seven froze, unable to process the phrase. Did he consider her a parent? Perhaps a caregiver? Now was not the time to ask. She would unpack this later. There was no rush for familial labels. She would be whatever he would allow her to be in his life. 

“Of course! I would expect nothing less! You are ordered to maintain contact with me,” Seven said while wiping her tears away. “However, I am more excited to see you excel. I am so proud of you. I apologize, I do not have the proper words to explain what I am feeling.”

“I don’t need words. I need support, and you’ve been the best guardian I could have wished for,” His voice hitched near the end and Seven knew he was feeling just as vulnerable as her. 

She turned his head to the side and placed a kiss on his temple. “And you are the best charge I could have asked for.”

Without another word, he let go of her and stepped back. Seven could see Chakotay walking up behind him and she briefly considered begging him to not take her son. 

“Seven.” He nodded at her warmly as he walked up. “I’m here for Icheb.” 

“I am aware. Please keep a watchful eye on him. I...am worried about him.”

“Noted. No harming the child. Got it!” He winked at her. “I will make sure he is safe. Have you decided what to do now that we are Earthside?”

“I have not. I think perhaps I will “drift” as the humans call it. I do have an Aunt I could visit, but I am unaware of her condition.”

“Ah, I knew it. You’re gonna go rogue. I love that,” Chakotay laughed in his usual rich baritone. 

He stepped forward and invited her into his embrace. She readily accepted and let herself lean on him just a tiny bit. It was different to be embraced by someone with a similar stature, her arms went under his, and for just a moment she pondered if perhaps what everyone on Voyager had implied could be viable. Should she pursue him? Was it possible to force attraction? Seven sighed out loud, that was disrespectful to both of them. Chakotay was a good man and deserved someone who truly appreciated him- not someone who was simply lonely. When the embrace was over, he put a warm hand on her arm and nodded goodbye. 

Seven turned to face Icheb. “Please write to me and stay safe.”

“I love you,” he replied, stepping away from her. “You stay safe as well! I need somewhere to go during the holidays!” 

She watched as he walked away with Chakotay, it struck her that they seemed comfortable with each other. Perhaps they had a bond as well. It wasn’t threatening at all, it would be good for both of them. She watched them walk away until they had become a speck on the land. Once they were out of sight, she sat back down at the wooden table and took a few deep breaths. 

It hurt. It hurt _a lot._

It hurt that she had just formed her own collective and the minute they had landed on Earth it was to be disbanded. So many things had happened just now. Icheb had informally called her Mother; Janeway had made her weak with a simple touch, and Chakotay in a different vein had consoled her in a way she was not used to. 

After the tears had dried and she no longer felt as if she would faint, Seven stood from the table and scoped out the large area around her. Quite a bit of the crowd was gone leaving only a few Starfleet personnel that flanked the Captain. 

She made her way over to the other end of the yard, feeling quite worn out. This morning she had been in the Alpha quadrant. Now, she was Earthside. In a strange turn of events, she was more lost on Earth than she had been in space. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, everyone for all the love on my prologue! I really appreciated it!


	3. Chapter 3

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_

_You make me happy when skies are gray_ _._

  
  


_-2380-_

Sunlight spilled through the floral curtains, spilling buttery light throughout the room. 

She inhaled, a little surprised at how comfortable she felt. Her whole body tingled with the same feeling she had after a good workout. Seven reached out to stretch, her muscles shivered as she reached for the headboard and pulled, releasing the knots in her back. Her hand escaped the blankets, moving back and forth out sleepily. When she was met with cold sheets, she lost the hazy smile. She hunted a little more, eyes still closed, and gasped when she retrieved a thin chain. The Captain’s chain. She curled her hand into a fist and brought it to her forehead almost as if in prayer.

She stayed that way for quite some time, the simple cross clutched to her protectively. It seemed illogical to worship a memory, a fleeting dream of slippery bodies, and frantic declarations of love. A silent plea was still made to the universe. _Please_ , oh please. The night before had been quite an exhausting ordeal between her and Janeway. The only reason she’d even been able to sleep was physical exertion. The emotional trauma she’d endured paled in comparison to the paralyzing amount of love she’d received. It was a kiss after a skinned knee, a stream of cold water on a burn. As soon and she had been comforted, she was hurt once more. 

The sound of a door creaking made her sit up quickly in bed. Even with sunshine, the atmosphere of her quarters was quite dark. She rubbed at her eyes with her fists and jumped when she realized she was still holding the necklace. Soft hands wrapped hers, gently taking the chain from her. She was truly surprised when she felt the chain being fastened around her neck. She looked up the strong arms around her neck and followed the limbs past shoulders and into the face of Kathryn Janeway. There were approximately one hundred and eighty thousand words in the English language and at this precise moment, Seven of Nine knew none of them.

On _Voyager_ , Janeway had been incredibly resistant to the idea of them forming a romantic union. Seven could never quite pry out the exact reason why. She figured it had something to do with Starfleet protocol and her code of ethics. They were mismatched in rank, Seven wasn’t even Starfleet. She was part of the crew unofficially but Janeway was nothing if detail orientated when it came to Starfleet rules and regulations. She rarely broached the subject though, the Captain became increasingly aggravated whenever Seven had inquired about where they stood. 

In a desperate attempt to see Janeway more, Seven had even accepted a position as a civilian research leader at Starfleet Command. Technically, she was the head of Warp Mechanics even if most people didn’t know what that was. It almost felt like a step down in rank, even though she held no rank. The job wasn’t perfect but it gave her the freedom and routine she needed. She’d never been asked why she accepted such a position by her Captain so, in turn, she didn’t disclose the reason. 

Her one caveat upon taking the position was hand-picking her team. Ensign Wildman was her first choice, along with some crew from Voyager. She tried not to favor the woman because of their familiarity, but Seven did admit that it was nice to see someone close to her. Especially when Naomi came to visit and brought drawings for her. They lined the board behind her desk, next to a photo of Icheb and Chakotay in their Starfleet uniforms. Icheb had grown since she’d seen him last. He wasn’t far, but their schedules conflicted directly. More often than not they settled for eating dinner together via Padd. 

Many people asked if Chakotay was her husband. It didn’t anger her; it was a rational assumption to make. She always told them no, that he was just a good friend she’d made in space. Some would ask if she would marry to which she could only offer an indigent aversion to the question. Why everyone was obsessed with her love life was beyond her. The only exception she would make was B’Elanna; her friend only pestered her because she genuinely cared. 

The photo of her and Janeway, taken the day she’d stepped off of _Voyager_ stayed in her desk drawer. That was one photograph she didn’t care to explain. 

The monotony of the lab helped serve a distraction. Occasionally she was forced to make conversation with the other people who worked under her. But, for the most part, she’d developed such a capable team that they didn’t need much direction. Weekly, she would ask for updates but the rest of her time was spent gathering reports to send to Starfleet about various topics. She was expected to present their findings weekly to ensure that they kept progressing. She suspected it was because they wanted to keep a watchful eye on her. But, so long as they let her be, she would continue to make progress. 

Unfortunately, the more useful she became, the more the Captain had begun to distance herself from her. Obviously, Seven wasn’t entitled to her time. It was a stark difference than on _Voyager._ They would spend two, maybe three nights together simply talking. Seven had no idea if the Captain realized just how much she learned from her. Kathryn Janeway was very intelligent about many things, things that Seven would have never known about. 

Sometimes the Captain would speak about her childhood in Indiana. Sometimes they joked that her mother would love to meet someone so eager to learn about the traditional way of living that Indiana offered. Nowadays, Seven was lucky to see Janeway once a month, even for a brief moment. Sometimes those minutes of interaction could hold her over until the next time. Occasionally it just made the Seven sob herself to sleep. it just seemed that the Captain wanted nothing to do with her. Why was she being punished for excelling? Her entire experience with the _Voyager_ crew was about her regaining humanity and compassion. When she exemplified those characteristics on Earth, however, she was snubbed and isolated. 

About six months after their landing, the Captain started to come by the ex-Borg’s quarters and “chit chat” as she had put it. They would drink black coffee and catch up on each other’s lives. Sometimes they reminisced, sometimes they talked about the future. One thing the Captain refused to acknowledge was the obvious mutual attraction between them. They could talk about the old crew, her lab, their childhoods, or even what they had for lunch. Occasionally, the Captain would volunteer information about her old flames. Once in a great while, Janeway would ask her about her current assignments and how they were progressing. 

Last night’s conversation had taken a peculiar turn, though. The Captain had brought a bottle of Bourbon, claiming it had been from the cornfields of Indiana. Together they made a small dinner in Seven’s tiny Starfleet-provided kitchen and as the night went on eventually ended the night with a carrot cake from the commissary.

They had discussed Seven’s future and where she planned to go once her program had ended. Since it was only a sixteen-week program, she would have to apply for another civilian position or apply to Starfleet directly. She had expressed her disdain at being continually monitored as if she would rebel at any moment and assimilate everyone in sight. The Captain, who she learned was being promoted to Admiral soon, had told her about some places who would benefit from her expertise without the constant nagging of Starfleet. 

All it had taken was a bit of wanton eye contact from Janeway as she left to perforate the thin wall they’d built between each other. 

Janeway had turned to her as she approached the door with such emotion that for a brief moment, Seven felt rendered speechless. It was the same look she’d seen every time she’d come back from an away mission. A particularly potent combination of sexual tension, bourbon, and close proximity proved to be most effective. 

She’d raised her right hand and tucked Janeway's hair back- something she had started doing way back when she’d first been severed from the collective. It had been one of the first forms of affection she’d received and it held a profound meaning in her heart. She knew that the Captain would understand the movement for what it was. The Captain was an incredibly private woman so it had been an honor to hear all the details of her life in such a casual setting. 

Janeway raised her hand to cover hers and squeezed. Such a small gesture was so intimate in Seven’s eyes. This was her Captain, conceding. Relinquishing control was something not taken lightly. 

Janeway was surrendering. 

Slowly, she leaned forward and waited with a pounding heart to see if Janeway would move too. Once she did, Seven descended with hooded eyes and placed her lips softly against Janeway’s. It was cautious, hesitant, similar to the first moments of a reconnaissance mission. There were no sounds, sans the blood in her ears. Her other hand came up to her Captain’s face, her thumb brushing over her temple. 

Janeway returned the kiss with a quiet intrigue. It occurred to Seven that this was very much out of the realm of comfort for the Captain. They’d spoken about her old lovers before, but the conversation was always very bland. There were never any details given and now it made sense why. Never once had they spoke of intimacy or sexual partners.

When they finally parted there were no sparks or flames as fiction usually dictated. Just a profound love and sense of vulnerability from both parties. Seven vowed never to betray that feeling. It was precious - _they_ were precious. Janeway leaned in once more, brushing her lips against Seven’s chin, her breath moving the small hairs at her temple. The faint scent of bourbon only served to intoxicate her more. Slowly, she was melting against the wall. They kissed once more, this time with a little less apprehension. 

Her thumbs still brushed back and forth against the Captain’s soft cheeks. Seven could tell that the Captain was smiling into their kiss, a minute detail that sent her over the emotional ledge. 

They separated, both of them staring at the distance between them. Their hands fell from their faces but stayed laced at their torsos. Seven slipped a hand up and over Janeway’s hip, drawing patterns on the fabric of her uniform. 

They studied each other for minutes. Overwhelmed and uncomfortably aroused, Seven’s throaty _please_ startled them both. Hand-in-hand they walked towards the small bed in her chambers. They both bounced slightly as they hit the mattress, the movement just enough to dislodge the Captain’s hair. There were no words exchanged. Just lascivious caresses and a few emotional tears between them both. The night had been filled with hesitance, vulnerability, and _need._ What had started with a simple conversation about how whiskey was made had ended with Seven smiling into her pillow with a strong hand aimlessly stroking the implant on her hip as she fell asleep. 

In the current moment, the same hands left her shoulders and although she knew better, Seven looked up into the blue eyes that made her human emotions win over rational thought every time. 

The hands moved from her shoulder and up her neck, only to settle against her chin. Slowly Kathryn brought herself close and kissed her tenderly before stepping away from her. She motioned towards the bag that sat on their chair in the corner. 

“I just came for my bag,” she walked over and grabbed the nylon pouch.

“I don’t have the words necessary to express my emotions right now,” Seven started, crumpling the bedspread in her fist. “But, what is the nature of our relationship?”

Janeway stood for a moment and the air seemed to deflate from her shoulders, almost as if she hadn’t expected the question. She did not resemble the formidable Captain that most everyone would recognize. 

“Seven, it's not possible. I need you to respect that.”

Seven sighed, that was the answer she usually got when she inquired about the subject. Somehow she always seemed to be led in a word circle or just plain ignored. This time it wrecked her. She had been given an invitation and had it ripped from her the very next morning. 

“I understand,” the ex-Borg said even though she truly did not. Perhaps the cold collective was a better place for her to be. It sure beat the feeling of her heart being ripped from her robotic body. 

“Seven. Remember when the future Admiral Janeway came to _Voyager_? You know what she told me?” Janeway asked with watery eyes. 

“That I would die. I’m aware of that. We beat it though, that timeline has been changed!” Tears welled Seven’s in eyes. This pain was inhumane. Why anyone would put someone through this was beyond her.

“She told me you were buried as Annika Hansen next to your husband,” Janeway moved slowly and sat lightly on the end of the bed. “Your husband Chakotay.” 

Seven shook her head.”That is incorrect. I do not harbor any feelings towards him. In fact, I view him as a shipmate, a sibling perhaps. I am no longer Annika, I am Seven. _Your_ Seven. You named me!”

“That’s not what the holodeck logs said.”

“That is not accurate,” Seven pleaded. “Why do you think I chose him in the other timeline? Likely because he was the only option given to me! No one even consulted with me then! That’s an extreme mistake on your part! Everyone was so worried about marrying me off to the nearest mate but no one seemed to ask what I wanted!”

“Yes, it is,” Janeway squeezed her blanket-covered feet from the foot of the bed. “But I simply cannot and no, I cannot say why. I need you to respect that!” 

Seven blushed in shame, “Then why even give in?”

“Another extreme mistake on my part.” 

Janeway moved up the bed to kiss her gently. When they eventually parted, Seven felt the tears come again. She tried to recapture the lips in front of her, but Janeway stepped back again, putting her fingers under the cross that hung from Seven’s neck. The slight scrape of her nails again her skin made goosebumps appear all over Seven’s soft skin. 

“You cannot have it both ways.”

“I can’t tell you specifics and for that I am sorry. But I can say that if you’d like, I could still come around,” She grasped Seven’s hands. “I just can’t commit, and no one can know this happened.”

Seven cried out, bringing their hands up to her lips. She placed a tiny kiss on Janeway’s knuckles and released her hands. Janeway stood to her full heights and grabbed her bag from the end of the bed.

“Oh, Seven of Nine, you’ve changed my life in ways you couldn’t even imagine. Please know that you are the most important person in my life and that’s the very reason why this can’t happen.”

Seven began to weep as she stood from the bed. Her muscles resisted, which made everything that has transpired that more real. Naked, she pushed heavily against Janeway’s shoulders, forcing the object of her pain out of the door. Once the door slammed shut, Seven slid down it, feeling exploited and embarrassed. How had she let this happen? How could Janeway do that?

At this point, Seven wanted to lay in bed and waste away. 

Perhaps that’s what she would do. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't get too mad at Janeway, she has her reasons. Please don't @ me for angst. I told ya. It will get better....eventually!


	4. Chapter 4

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_

_Please don't take my sunshine away_

_-2381-_

Heavy rain fell around her as she scrambled for the keys to her door. She dropped the ring, letting off many curse words she’d learned while earthside. The droplets crashed into the mud below like tiny meteors. She fished the keys out of the lagoon below her and wiped her hands on her denim pants. It was a drab, overcast day - a stark contrast from the days prior. Her skin was still tinted a bit pink from all the yard work she had done yesterday. 

All she wanted to do was get a quick jog in. The jog had turned into a pretty long excursion to the outskirts of her township. It was only a few miles however once the clouds had rolled in, the temperature had dropped considerably. It was still winter, even in New Mexico, and while it wasn’t as cold as San Francisco, it still made her sluggish. She briefly considered unearthing one of her biometric suits that were in storage. That had quickly been cast aside; the idea of running in the suit seemed...illogical. 

The past week had been desperately needed. Icheb had been home from the Academy and Seven had been in-between odd jobs around the neighborhood. They’d spent a lot of time exploring the mountains and finding new types of food neither of them had tried. They talked a lot about life at the Academy and how Chakotay was doing. Seven learned that the Commander had accepted a position on a research vessel due to depart right after Icheb’s graduation ceremony.

The key still refused to turn. Momentarily, Seven considered just using her Borg strength and punching a hole into the venerable door. It was impractical, yet efficient. The door had done nothing to her so she in return would calm herself down and try again. It was uncomfortable in the storm but the rainwater would not harm her. Once again she tried the key and exhaled when the familiar feeling of it turning happened. 

Finally, the chilly brass handle clicked and she was rushing into the dark home. Quickly she shed her wet clothes and hung them over the tattered welcome mat to her left. Keys jingled as they were hung on the cute hand-painted rack that sported a hand-drawn “Seven” that Naomi Wildman had painted her as a going-away present. The mementos from her previous desk were set on a display under the key ring. B’Elanna had referred to it as a “whatnot” which Seven refused to comply with. 

At this moment it was a little bare. There were the photographs from her office, a small “ashtray” that was also a gift from the adolescent Wildman, and a pin in the shape of a comm badge that Icheb had snagged from the Academy’s gift store. He had offered to bring home a bright green sweatshirt bearing the Voyager ship but Seven had politely declined. 

The silence of the home was unpleasant. Icheb had just left to go back to the Academy and before that B’Elanna and Tom had visited for a week. It was nice to have a space of her own, but the silence that came with it was not appreciated. Ever since she’d been disconnected from the collective, pure unmitigated quiet had been a trigger for her. The black absolute soundlessness brought back many feelings of overwhelming confusion and abandonment. 

Strangely enough, it had been Chakotay who had suggested that she buy a simple fan to add some white noise to her life. The advice had worked for quite some time however, she’d gotten so used to having guests that being alone felt isolating. Icheb promised to stop by again before he started his job at the Utopia Planitia shipyards. It still meant months of being alone with her thoughts.

When she had decided to leave her position with Starfleet, it hadn’t taken long for her to choose New Mexico. Her experience with the state had been incredibly positive. Besides the incredible beauty it held, the dry heat over California’s humidity had been the deciding factor. It had nothing to do with a particular Admiral that insisted on leaving rooms as soon as she entered and making shameless eye contact in the mess hall. It had gotten too painful to travel anywhere in the city. San Francisco no longer held the same charm it did when she read of it in the Delta quadrant. 

Anonymity, as dismal as it was, happened to be her safest option right now. Leaving her position had been a bumpy process, but the result was worth all of the efforts she had put in. Once her resignation had been tendered, she’d grabbed her things and traveled to the little town she had visited. It had taken minimal correspondence and within a few hours, she’d picked the tiny house and the end of the street, right underneath the large antiquated water tower that loomed over the town. 

The home was small, petite. Not quite as small as her quarters on Starfleet or Voyager, but still small in comparison to most homes. She liked the coziness of it; it fit her and Icheb perfectly when he was home. They’d fallen into an easy routine once he had arrived. It felt good, honestly. She felt needed, even if she too was still learning how to function effectively. They cooked breakfast together, played simple games, and simply enjoyed the feeling of family. The house was small but filled with love, acceptance, and safety. 

Tom and B’Elanna had made do with the quarters when they’d visited. To be fair, copulating on the small twin beds on _Voyager_ would make anything seem roomy. Young Miral was apparently in the stage where any surface worked for sleeping, which had worked out nicely. There were a couple of times where the toddler had fallen asleep on chairs, cushions, or even once on the coffee table. Children were still a sort of mystery to her. One night, long after the sun had gone down, the toddler still had an abundance of energy to release. Her parents seemed exhausted, so Seven had offered to entertain Miral for a few hours. 

They’d already gone through all the noises the aliens in space made when the toddler had decided that she was going to impersonate a hound for the rest of the evening. Together, they’d spent hours walking on hands and knees, barking at each other and petting each other’s heads. It seemed ridiculous and downright embarrassing but the giggles and amused noises the toddler had emitted had turned Seven’s heart into mush. 

That night, once Miral had finally gone to bed, Seven had sat outside in the moonlight for hours. She’d sat on a porch swing that had come with the property, rocking herself back and forth with one foot. The other foot was tucked under her, a cup of tea balanced precariously on her knee. It was then that she realized that the likeness of her having children was slim to none. Seven sat there, her tea long cold, just thinking about her life and how she’d come to be in that very spot. Self-reflection was not something she was very skilled at. It had not fully occurred to her that she was capable of bearing children. 

The Doctor had told her years ago when he’d given her the lecture about how she was a fertile young woman and could reproduce. That conversation had been painfully awkward, especially when the EMH had gotten a little too overzealous with the holodeck scenarios he had programmed for her. Regardless, she hadn’t fully comprehended what he meant when he told her that her clock was ticking. She wasn’t old by any means. However, she had no desire to copulate with anyone, even if it were for the sole purpose of fertility. 

She stripped her soaked socks and tossed them into the bin to be dealt with later. She should have washed and hung the laundry yesterday, a mistake in judgment. Hopefully, tomorrow would be drier and she could get some laundry done. It seemed like a menial, antiquated task but anything to keep her hands busy was worth it. Hanging clothes to dry, hand washing dishes, and planting a garden were all things she was working on. They were necessary skills that she’d been denied while assimilated. Basic skills, while also important, were something she was lacking. So, any spare time was spent learning hands-on tasks. 

After stripping completely and changing into comfier, more casual clothes, Seven moved over to the tablet she kept near the kettle in the kitchen. She started to make tea and smiled when she saw that she’d gotten a message from Icheb. It was hard for them to communicate now that she’d moved into the desert and away from most technology. It was important to her that she lay low and attempt inconspicuousness; there were eyes and ears everywhere. 

As she read further and further down, she began to smile. Eventually, when she put the tablet down on the counter, a few tears slipped down her face. No, her ocular implant was not malfunctioning; she was simply so _proud_. She now had a time and date for Icheb’s graduation from the Academy. He had even managed to snag the valedictorian spot, something Seven did not quite understand but would look into soon. 

It wasn’t lost on her that the formal message was worded as if she were a parent and not simply a family member. It made her feel maternal, like she, alongside Chakotay, had taken the frightened child inside the abandoned Borg cube and helped him reclaim his humanity among other noble things. 

Inside the message contained several photos of Icheb that she was to choose from for the official announcement. Towards the bottom of the invite, she read that the ceremony would be taking place in the outdoor reception fields at the Starfleet docking facility she’d stepped off of three years prior. The area held unpleasant memories for her but perhaps she would be wise to make new ones. 

She truly felt like a parent. Chakotay had stepped in as a father figure to the young man, but there was just something about them being ex-Borg that made their connection that much more profound. The two adults rarely had time to converse, let alone make plans to talk. Seven made a note to message Chakotay and ask if they would attend Icheb’s graduation together. For a moment, it felt very domestic. Or, rather, what she assumed domestic would feel like. Allowing herself the indulgence of fantasy, Seven considered what her life would have been like if she’d taken the Captain’s bait and married the former First Officer. It would be likely that they would still be on base. Maybe she would still be in the lab. Or, she could have attempted to apply to Starfleet, even if they had caused quite a bunch of dramatics during her time on _Voyager_. 

She sent off the reply and finished her tea. She ruffled through the cabinets until she found a water bottle that she’d also swiped from the base. The emblem on the front had started to fade due to the handwashing but it was still strangely precious to her. She filled it and walked into the living quarters. She set the water bottle down and grabbed a slim purple mat from behind the couch. 

Seven unfurled the mat and stepped on it a few times to flatten it against the floor. Then she walked over to the music station that Janeway had introduced her to. After a few moments, a quiet, ambient tone filled the small house. Satisfied with her choice, Seven went back to the mat and stood with her feet together directly in the middle. 

With as much control as she could muster, Seven bent and laid her palms flat on the mat in front of her feet. She lifted one leg and raised it to be parallel with the floor. She held the position for a moment, exhaling slowly. A burn began in her hamstring and she reveled in the discomfort. 

She continued the static stretches and played out more scenarios of what could happen. Her fantasies of being a housewife or working spouse always started with Chakotay and ended up being Janeway. It hurt a little less now, having her heart shattered in that lonely bed back in California. Then, her coping mechanisms included crumpling bed frames in her hands or putting her hand through steel sheets. Now, she ran and stretched out. She found that exercise was very efficient. Many times she had broken through mental barriers while exerting herself. 

When Janeway had left, Seven had lain in her bed for almost an entire day, smelling the scent of Janeway’s body on her sheets and crying into her pillow. It wasn’t until she neglected to report for duty that someone had been sent to fetch her. Fortunately, Ensign Wildman had volunteered for the job. It was nice to have someone who was versed in heartbreak and failed encounters physically pick her up out of bed and get her started for the day. Those simple acts had been incredibly fundamental in Seven’s healing. Perhaps she would send the Wildmans a gift from a local shop. It had been a while since she’d corresponded with Naomi. 

No longer did she wish death upon herself every morning. She’d read entire anthologies on heartbreak but to experience it was quite different. To Borg, copulation was for procreation. Even then, they assimilated at such a rate that procreation was hardly necessary. However, when someone was added to the collective, so were their memories. In theory, she had the sexual databank of billions of life forms stored in her brain. That was what she had been trying to explain to everyone. Regardless, they still attempted to match her with random partners up until the very end. 

Sometimes she wondered if she would ever seek physical contact again. She didn’t exactly have the most promising track record with sexual exploration. She’d propositioned Ensign Kim, although that barely counted. In her holodeck experience, she’d considered asking the faux Chakotay for an endeavor. However, they all seemed...wrong. It wasn’t anything she could pinpoint, which was irritating. They were obviously attractive specimens, but there was something missing. 

Then there was the Captain. It wasn't an instant attraction. At first, it was more of a disdain. There were many emotions involved, one was resentment. Resentment for severing her from The Collective as she had been severed from humanity. Another was pure petulance. Who was this human woman to order her around like a simple house pet? The final one was fear. Oh God, the fear she felt. It wasn’t apparent to her at the moment but having to face the reality of making choices for herself was horrifying. 

And then, when she’d broken down, there was the Captain with her warm embraces. Seven could tell the Captain had been terrified when her arms had circled her for the first time in the Brig. The average human may not have been able to detect the elevated heart rate and tiny tremors coming from her, but Seven did. The idea that this woman would go against better judgment to comfort a dangerous ex-drone meant a lot to her. Even if it had taken a little bit for her to understand it. 

As she grew into her humanity, so to speak, so did her fondness for the Captain. In the beginning, she felt a sort of distrust between them, rightly so. She spent many nights simply analyzing their interactions. The _need_ to understand Kathryn Janeway had all but taken over her life. The petite, red-headed enigma was truly intriguing. She couldn’t just assimilate the knowledge; something she was not used to. No, she had to learn whatever was given to her. She found the Captain to be quite a private person. 

As time passed, and their conversations took on a more intimate nature, Seven found herself regularly wondering about the Captain in a more romantic sense. There was one particular time when they were celebrating Prixin when the Captain asked the crew to adhere to the holiday dress code with formal uniforms or the applicable substitute. Janeway had strode in with such a confident saunter, fashionably late of course. Seven had gasped quite loudly, alerting the Doctor next to her. He had given her a sympathetic look and an oddly disconcerting shoulder pat. 

_She does look rather dashing, doesn’t she?_ He had asked her a few minutes, catching her off guard. She had spent the rest of the night hiding in the corner simply marveling at the Captain.

Her legs burned and trembled with fatigue. She wiped her brow and slowly descended into a cross-legged position on the floor. Finally, she relaxed and laid back on the mat to catch her breath. For a while, she lay there inhaling and exhaling slowly. She contorted to look out the window and noticed that the rain had let up. It was night now, the blackened sky outside her window almost reminded her of staring into space outside of a ship. 

She stood and put away her things. Seven gathered the Padd and remembered that she hadn’t gotten a chance to check the physical mail in a bit. Their mailboxes were all stacked at the end of the street. Usually, she checked it once a week given that it was a little-used service anymore. However, in towns like hers with little to no technology, it was a semi-common occurrence to see a hovercraft dropping off mail early Monday morning. 

So, she slid into her shoes from earlier and grimaced when they squelched in return. The feeling of the wet material around her feet nearly made her gag. She discarded the shoes, taking a calculated risk to just walk the small expanse barefoot. 

As soon as she stepped outside she realized just how low the temperature had dropped. She might have to turn on the tiny space heater she kept in her bedroom tonight. The road was cold and slick against her feet. She quickened her pace down the road managing to only step on a few rocks. 

She unlocked the box and pulled out some junk from the city and a tiny parcel. There was no return address but the box was sent via the Starfleet mail center. Her heart dropped and her hands began to shake as she made a mash dash for her home. Once inside, she dropped her belongings and went straight for the couch. Once she got the mailer open, she pulled out three things. A small gift, a letter, and a small bottle. 

She decided to leave the letter for last. She scanned the small bottle, it was the perfect size to fit in her palm. The label had been torn in transit, so she twisted the cap and inhaled deeply. 

Bourbon.

The sticky scent of leather and cherries unlocked all kinds of emotions and memories she had worked very hard to suppress. She twisted the cap back on and set the bottle aside. It took a moment for her to gather her senses. The feelings that flooded back were overwhelming, even for her. She put the bottle back in the box and moved to place it in a cupboard out of sight. Once it was tucked away, she went back to the couch and nervously opened the rest. 

Next was a small mailer. Seven ripped open the side and slid out a very small leather-bound book. She turned it to the side and her heart clenched at the title.

_The Raven_

It seemed to be a book of poems. Was the title a coincidence? Was the intention to bring light to the ship that her family had crashed in, only to be assimilated? It was too precise to be an accident. She set the book aside to read before bed tonight. 

Her full designation was handwritten in a script far too familiar to her. It had been written on cards, reprimands, recommendations, and even in icing on a birthday cake. Her hands shook as she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a thick parchment-type card. 

_Hope you’re well. I know it’s late but Merry Christmas. I hope the desert has been good to you._

_-K_

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just have this vision of Seven, surrounded by the New Mexico sunset, running in the mountains with her hair down. Thank you all for all the kind comments, they are very much appreciated. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this so early but today was rough and I'm determined to put good into the world. If you want to find me on twitter I'm at Stardatextoday by the way!

I'll _always love you and make you happy_

_If you will only say the same_

  
  


_-2382-_

The rain smacked and pelted the material of the rather large enclosure they were all sat under. The sky was a charcoal sort of grey, ominous, and leering. Perfect for graduation. Seven looked on soberly as all the Starfleet Academy graduates took turns giving speeches. She didn’t mean to be rude, but being on Starfleet property was unnerving. She was here for Icheb but there was a tiny part of her that hoped Janeway would make herself known. It had been incredibly awkward when she produced her identification at the gate, knowing that the poor Cadet - who had likely been volunteered for the position - would have to call security over to check her out. 

Starfleet didn’t deal with quitters well. She was sure that they would have denied her entry to the ordeal, even with an invitation, if she hadn’t arrived with Chakotay in tow. She was also very aware that she was being monitored from many vantage points. Being dangerous meant being under scrutiny, even at a ceremony. 

Her eyes swept the crowd looking for any familiar faces. She saw none, which proved to be even more unnerving. Who was she expecting? It had been just over two years since _they’d_ last spoken. Even after the little Christmas stunt, she’d refused to contact her out of pure spite. She wasn’t proud of it, but if anyone asked she was simply giving Janeway space. She refused to even wonder how the woman had even gotten her address. 

Chakotay patted her thigh lovingly in a platonic way. He could likely feel her unease. She turned to him and grinned; the years had done him well. He seemed...happy. Seven knew that he was taking off for space soon, but she did not know if she was supposed to be aware of that. So, she made polite conversation with him until he volunteered that information. It was nice to have someone here with her. 

“You look very nice, Seven,” Chakotay said with his notoriously kind smile. The tanned crinkles in his eyes made her smile back. His hair was graying; it added a sharp nobility to his presence. 

“As do you,” Seven wasn’t lying. 

He motioned to both of their bodies, “We do make quite an odd-looking pair.”

“Do you kind of feel like estranged parents coming together for their son?” She chuckled and put an arm around him. She rested her head on his shoulder and for just a moment it hurt to know that this was a life she could have shared with someone. It wasn’t the one she wanted, but to know that she could have had a life like this with Janeway filled her with sadness. 

He laughed. “I do. It’s kind of nice. Almost like we’re co-parenting even though we got the easiest kid.”

She smiled at the sentiment. It did feel like Icheb was the simplest duty she had been given. Granted, he had been partially grown in a maturation chamber when they’d discovered him. But, even though they’d only been a unit for a few years, he always called her for advice. He trusted her, something she treasured greatly. 

“How does he address you?” Seven asked cautiously. She had no intention of stepping on toes but they rarely had time to talk without Icheb there with them. 

“He calls me by name. I don’t think he’s keen on the idea of ‘Mom and Dad’ if you catch my drift.”

“Understandable. I might share the same sentiment. My experience with parental figures is dysfunctional at best.”

“He loves you though, believe me. He tells me all the time how much he loves us.” 

Seven went to ask more but was cut off by a familiar voice. She looked toward the podium and beamed when she saw Icheb, her son, standing to address the crowd. He wore the traditional Valedictorian garments and looked like such a bright young man. Her throat tightened and tears welled up immediately. The amount of emotion pouring out of her was almost too much to contain. Never had she loved a child so much as her own. As Chakotay had simply put it - they were a makeshift dysfunctional family. 

“Hello everyone,” Icheb spoke to the crowd. Seven noticed that his voice seemed lower than the last time they’d spoken. He’d be an adult male in no time. Soon he would be married and perhaps bear offspring. Seven was spiraling with emotion. Was this how normal parents felt? How would she get anywhere if she was constantly overwhelmed?

“My name is Icheb. I don’t have a last name. You see, I am Borg. Well, ex-Borg. There’s quite a story there but now isn’t the time for it!” 

Gasps were heard among the crowd. Seven wondered if any harm would come from his admission. Even after being disconnected years ago, it was still oddly vulnerable to verbally admit that she was ex-Borg, especially in front of more than three hundred people.

“I don’t say this for pity or to start anything. I just want to educate. Five years ago I was separated from the Borg Collective by _Voyager_. I was assimilated as a child, and I was to be returned to my parents. Well, it turned out that my parents weren’t great and due to some diligence and compassion on _Voyager_ , I was rescued a second time. It was there on that ship in the Delta quadrant that I fell in love with science and told myself that I would love to walk in the same steps as Captain Kirk,” Icheb stopped his speech and looked around at the crowd for a heavy pause. 

“When we landed on Earth, I was petrified. I was scared because the people I had learned from and learned to love would be separated from me. What I didn’t realize then is while I stood with my guardians under a tree only a half-mile from here, that we all desperately needed each other too. I needed to grow and make my own decisions while they needed time to get used to being on Earth. I’ll have them stand, c’mon guys!” He looked directly at them and motioned upwards. 

A warm hand filled hers and pulled her up. Being on display was something she was unaccustomed to. She looked from Chakotay to Icheb and knew that she trusted these men with her life. She blew a kiss to Icheb, who was smiling larger than she’d ever seen him smile. For a brief flicker, she felt remorse; she wanted this, she wanted a family. She wanted children. The only caveat was she wanted them with the one person who she could not have.

After the applause died down they sat back down and Icheb continued his speech. 

“I also have one last person to thank. It’s also totally not a coincidence that she is also the next and final speaker for today,” He laughed and turned to his left.

“To her: I thank you profusely for giving me a chance. I know I acted out childishly by testing boundaries for quite a bit. You didn’t raise a hand nor voice to me. I learned how to lead from you. I amend my previous statement. I aspire to walk in Captain Kirk’s footsteps, but I hope to lead alongside you someday. You have been the mentor I needed in my life as well as a Grade-A Captain to the best Starfleet crew to exist. As Valedictorian I am honored to introduce: Admiral Kathryn Janeway.”

Applause thundered in the vinyl dome and for a second Seven wondered if the structure would collapse.

Seven thought for a moment, _Admiral Kathryn Janeway_ , it sounded so authoritative. She waited quietly, knowing now that Icheb’s stunt was over that there was no way to hide from _her._ The best she could do was manage the icy facade she’d been so good at on voyager. Did she want attention or not? Human emotions were exhausting. 

She never really considered herself someone attracted to a uniform but, Janeway in a dress uniform was positively captivating. It seemed similar to her Captain’s uniform but with an extra air of honor and importance. Like, she’d truly worked hard for this title and she had no problem explaining how. It was alluring and incredibly forbidden, which made it that much more attractive. 

“Good afternoon, Everyone. My name is Admiral Kathryn Janeway. Never Sir, rarely Ma’am, and always Admiral,” She paused and smiled while the crowd laughed quietly. 

“Roughly thirty years ago, I sat under this very tarp and watched as all my colleagues received their diplomas. Some of them received assignments immediately after, some of them did not. Some of them left and never looked back. Some were killed in combat, some settled down and had a family. Only a few of them are around today. But, when you get to be my age they rarely are. 

“This story isn’t about me, though. It’s about my crew on Voyager. I assume you’re familiar with it?” When everyone nodded, she continued.

“Eleven years ago, I was given the task of retrieving a lost Maquis vessel. I had a few humbling years under my belt and when I say they were humbling what I mean is they were dreadful, soul-crushing, and pretty damning. My faith in myself had faltered. I was no longer fresh out of the Academy. I wanted so _badly_ to be a Captain, and yet I still made the decisions of a Cadet. I made bad calls and came very close to being responsible for many deaths. 

“So, as soon as _Voyager_ had broken free from Earth, I knew that my vigilance needed to be steadfast. I was a Janeway, and if you knew what kind of pressure that put on my back, you’d probably piss yourself. Over time I learned just what it meant to be a true Starfleet Captain. Not simply a leader; someone who would _adapt_ to their crew’s needs.” Janeway made direct eye contact with her when she spoke the phrase Seven of Nine had mentioned many times. 

“We will adapt,” Janeway started again. “A phrase I heard quite a bit. On my ship, I had such a diversity that it seemed that every weekend was a new cause for celebration. That doesn’t mean we didn’t have our fair share of heartbreak. I’d wager that everyone on that ship faced more pain and suffering than they have yet to on Earth. It comes with the territory. Heartbreak makes the love that much stronger. To see how we all worked together to find our way home is something I stress to every class I speak to. 

“When I left Earth for the first time. I carried some awful biases. I could even call them aggressions. When I returned so many years later, I carried trust and knowledge so dear to me that there isn’t a single decision I would make differently. Some decisions were harder than others; some cost me friends, family, and even lovers. But, in the end, I did what I knew was right, even if no one else knows why. So, I leave you today with just a few pointers. I hope you’ll be smart enough to utilize them.”

Janeway continued to talk but all Seven could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. Had she just admitted that they were lovers? This was the most unpleasant feeling. Tears began to form and it took every ounce of self-preservation to keep them from falling. She lowered her head and a warm hand wrapped around her, pulling her close. Chakotay’s warmth transferred to her and for just a moment, she appreciated the contact. He placed a chase kiss against her temple and stood as the crowd rose to clap for their Admiral. 

She had to admit, even if the speech had struck her directly in the feelings, it had been poignant. Janeway had always been great at addressing the crowd whether it was in the mess hall, during trade deals, or even at graduation. 

The applause ended and people began to disperse amongst the crowd. Seven looked towards Icheb and temporarily shoved her pain aside. Her boy had graduated. It struck her that in his uniform he looked so professional. He jumped up and ran towards her barrelling into her like a galloping steed. Had she not had bones of steel, it would have surely knocked her over. Instead, she embraced him tightly, letting the tears finally fall free.

If someone had told the ex-drone in the basement of _Voyager_ that in less than a decade she would have a makeshift son that shared her trauma and a co-parenting father figure that would be leaving for space again, she would have called them a humanoid fool. However many things had transpired and even if her heart tore each time she saw the Starfleet emblem on Icheb’s uniform, it made everything worth it. 

The three of them embraced for a while, just _being._ Their lives had been filled with such desolate memories and this embrace seemed to acknowledge that. Icheb was pressed between them, breathing deeply. Seven could feel Chakotay’s shoulders rocking slightly, indicating that he too was moved by this. She was needed, she had a place in the world, as small as it was. She was somebody’s, even if it was as a source of familial comfort. 

“Hello.” A familiar voice startled them all. Seven froze in fear, an icicle dripping down her body, causing her to tremble quietly. She was terrified and aroused, all from one single word. She cursed her biology for betraying her. 

“Kathryn.” Chakotay nodded to her. 

“Admiral,” Icheb greeted her while giving her a respectful nod. “That was a magnificent speech.”

The Admiral nodded in thanks, “I appreciate that. I came to congratulate you and offer you your first assignment.” 

She produced a Padd and offered it to the young man. He looked at Janeway, seemingly starstruck.

Before he could answer or read it aloud, Janeway turned to Seven and leaned in to whisper, “Can we talk?”

Unable to compute the emotions flowing through her, Seven simply nodded. Janeway smiled sadly, bid goodbye to the men and grabbed Seven’s arm, leading her outside of the tent. Seven let herself be lead around the yard, savoring the feeling of Janeway’s hand in hers. Her breathing became deeper and her heart began to pound. She was tortuously intrigued, against all better judgment. Humans were weak, she was weak. Weakness all around. 

They walked around the landing yard for a while, past all the cement lots and onto the old school grounds. After a few minutes, the Admiral stopped and changed course, leading them around a smaller building and through a door. Seven looked around and guessed it had been a training wing. Water fountains and lockers lined the walls. Once they’d gotten a few feet into the dark hallway, Janeway whipped around and made eye contact. Her dangerously beautiful blue eyes were illuminated by the sunlight streaming through the windows. Dust floated around them like confetti and disappeared into the shadows. 

Seven set her gaze directly into the passionate eyes that she had met in defiance many times in her life. Tears pooled in the Admiral’s eyes and eventually fell, causing Seven to concede.

Her guard dropped, along with her self discipline. Kathryn Janeway, the rigid no-nonsense leader that left many men and women quaking in their boots, was openly weeping directly in front of her. This isn’t what was supposed to happen! Seven was the physically strong one, but Janeway was the brooding silent woman who refused to crack. She had little experience offering comfort, especially towards someone who had wronged her so devastatingly. 

Unable to see the woman she loved so desolate, Seven let out a hushed “Kathryn” and stepped forward and caught Janeway’s lips with a soft, sweet kiss. It was almost like they were teenagers, kissing hesitantly as to not get caught. She knew that this would hurt them both and accepted it. She would take a life of longing and pain just to kiss Kathryn Janeway one last time. Seven’s hands naturally landed on Janeway’s shoulders, her fingers toying with the stiff collar of the woman’s uniform. She felt hands wrap around her waist, bringing them intimately close. Once again, Janeway was embracing her while trembling, a juxtaposition of love, fear, and desire. Only this time the Brig had been exchanged for a nondescript room on Starfleet grounds. 

How paradoxical.

It happened a second time, then a third. By the end of the fifth kiss, Seven was almost gasping for breath. Her lips throbbed from the surging blood and she could feel a cold sweat breaking out on her body, making her silk blouse stick to her skin. The warm hands grasping her waist tightened, adding a delightful pressure in her lower extremities. Her legs began to tremble as she went in for one last kiss. Janeway caught her off guard and backed her into the lockers, her metallic parts crashing loudly. A feral mewl escaped her, and for a moment she experienced a frantic need to take back her power. Desire overrode her thought process, rending her implants useless. 

_Where was she?_

_Who was she?_

_Why was she here?_

Her thoughts were scrambled. All she knew was that those lips were a diamond in the desert and she was _damned_ lucky to have found them after a lifetime of searching. They parted slightly, a string of their fluids caught between their lips. This was no longer a simple lust-filled visit, this was a battle of wills. Who controlled whom? Was there even a winner in this scenario? The sight of her ex-lover, her captain, the object of her fantasy was gasping in her grip. Red flushed over the Admiral, her hair falling in soft strands, touching her nose. It was most unbecoming but oh, was it arousing. 

The sight was pure erotica, not even Seven’s imagination could have conjured this. She spun them, taking care to throw Janeway a little gentler. As much as she wanted to dominate, to own this woman, she did not wish to harm her. She was well aware that no one on Earth could hurt the Admiral as she could. That power alone was intoxicating. While she guarded that fact with her life, she was also aware that even in the darkest moments of her sexual fall from grace, she would allow no harm to come to the woman she loved.

She brought her nose to Janeway’s, teasing a kiss that would never come to life. Their wanton panting was staccato, erratic. They sounded concupiscent, a carnal desire to prevail in their battle of wills. 

Seven noticed the threads of gray in the Admiral’s hair and it struck her just how long they had been apart. It had seemed like so long ago, centuries since she’d brought a thermos of coffee to the ready room in hopes of getting a Janeway smile. It had been utter millennia since they’d challenged each other at velocity; Seven losing every time due to her inability to form coherent thoughts once Janeway began to heave and sweat. 

“We can’t do this,” Janeway whispered against her lips. “I can’t do this. I’m so sorry for my lapse in judgment.’”

“Why do you torment me so?” Seven whispered hoarsely, determined not to cry in front of the Admiral. She stepped back away from her as if she’d been physically struck. 

“I can’t tell you anything, Seven. I would if I could. I want nothing more than to sweep you off of your feet and live somewhere up North with our children and animals.” Janeway stepped back, hands raised in defeat. Seven could see that the older woman was struggling to maintain composure. She hurt too; something that should not have pleased Seven but it truly did. 

“Please, if not for me. Do it for my son.” Seven’s pain had developed into anger. “Do not lead me on if you intend to abandon him as well. He loves you! _I_ love you!”

“Your son,” Kathryn whispered quietly. 

The pause was heavy between them, filled with heaving chests and swollen lips. 

“Darling, I want so much to be in his life. To be with you, to be a family. Things are happening, things I can’t involve you in. I just can’t. Even if you don’t trust me personally, have I ever misled you as your Captain?”

“You disconnected me from my collective with sweet promises of poetic emotions and delicate relationships, only to tear them all from me? You tell me about the plights of love and how pure I am. You read 19th-century poetry to me. You claim to love me. If you did, you would not throw me away like simple garbage! ” 

Janeway seemed punctured by that retort. “You’re right. I did. I have. I only hope one day that it all works out. Had I known what I know now, I would have ignored the advice given to me by my future self.”

“You would let me die?”

They were quiet for a few moments. The reticent quiet a heavy blanket over them both.

Janeway cracked, a guttural sob piercing the silence. Her face twisted into a deeply mournful expression, “I would spend three years loving you the best I could.”

_I would spend three years loving you the best I could._

How cruel. 

“I do not believe you,” Seven said defensively, wrapping her arms around herself. Incredibly vulnerable at the admission, she stepped back and gave Janeway space between them. 

“I can only repeat the same things over and over Seven. There are powers at work that are greater than you and I. All the things I have done are to keep everyone safe - my safety be damned. I love you, I truly do. But I can’t. I just can’t.”

“I do not understand why you deprive yourself of this ‘all-encompassing, totalitarian love’ that you spoke of frequently with me. You’ve made me an addict, Kathryn. I cannot sleep or eat without thinking of you. My dreams are filled with my memories of our night together! I still remember what you whispered to me before I fell asleep! It hurts me to love you!”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Janeway said with a sigh. She moved off of the lockers and backed away slightly, hands raised in surrender. 

“I am damaged, Kathryn. I am damaged and I have no one to deactivate me! I am damaged!” Seven yelled, her broken voice booming down the hallway. “And what of Icheb? How do I explain to him that someone he considers family wants nothing to do with him?”

“I did want him! I still do! His relationship to me makes him a target! You are both targets! I can’t tell you why, but you have to cut ties with me. Please never see me again! I am willing to live every day in agony if it means that you are safe!” 

Seven stood there, trying to make sense of the situation, vulnerability coming off her in heavy waves. 

“Admiral, if I may?” 

Janeway nodded, hands still raised. 

“Do you remember the song that the Doctor taught me while upon _Voyager_?” The one we sang when discussing pitch?

“You Are My Sunshine?” Janeway asked slowly as if she were not quite following the train of thought. “It’s quite a pretty, yet depressing song.”

Seven shook her head. “No, the other one.”

The Admiral shrugged, the shoulders of her dress uniform climbing up her neck and back down. She lowered her arms to her sides.

“You are lost and gone forever, dreadful sorry Clementine,” Seven sang quietly, tripping over the final syllables and swallowing with emotion. She remembered a time where she’d sung that verse under duress. 

Janeway nodded in understanding. “Ah.”

“I do believe I understand the purpose of the children’s song. It’s about a man who cannot help the woman he loves, so she dies a preventable death.” Seven moved to the side and around the Admiral. “He misses her but wishes for her to leave him definitely so he may heal.”

“I guess it is. I hadn’t thought about it.” Janeway admitted, walking a few steps closer to Seven. 

Seven leaned forward and placed one delicate kiss on the Admiral’s lips, a goodbye of sorts. “I hope one day you listen and think of your impact on my life, my Captain. I concede. I will take the loss. You have made it abundantly clear. I am Clementine. I am lost and gone forever.”

With those words out, Seven turned on her heel and sped around the corner getting as far away from there as she could. For years she wondered if she would ever get the closure she deserved from their passionate night. It had been too long and she was too far gone to reconcile the pain she was in. The startling advice before she’d left still sat heavy in her heart. If Icheb was to be targeted by Starfleet, she would watch him from afar. Besides, he deserved time to make his reputation and friends there. She didn’t want to intrude on that. So, she would go home and continue to correspond with him. Where he traveled, so would she. It would be just the two of them until he left. 

And she would be alone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol this is a lil steamy isnt it? :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning for non-major character death!

_But if you leave me and love another_

_You'll regret it all someday_

_-2383-_

A loud BOOM shook the entire house. The glass panels of the windows tinkled and for a moment, she wondered if any of them had shattered. The sound of her possessions toppling downstairs startled her. Seven quickly retrieved her weapon and sprinted downstairs, hissing when the cold wooden stairs touched her feet. Her tactical skills were rusty, disjointed. No longer were her instincts and movements effective. 

She would remedy that soon. 

She took the stairs in sets of three until she skidded to a stop in front of her door. She cracked it open and groaned at the sight before her. 

A very downtrodden courier car was hovering in her yard, sputtering and dropping bits of metal and scrap on her lawn. Behind it was what used to be her fence. The white painted planks were now charred black with a distinct shape cut out of it. A rusty cloud puffed out the back of it and disappeared into the crisp night air. For a moment, Seven wondered how the rudimentary cars were even allowed to operate any more. 

Before she could even raise a complaint, two packages materialized on top of the flowers she had planted mere weeks ago. The nondescript corrugated boxes were similar in size, although one was strangely oblong. A third parcel eventually appeared, though it was a much smaller envelope. Seven raised her gaze to the courier who nodded and waddled over to her, tablet in hand. 

“Signature please.” The robotic voice requested. It looked eerily similar to a ventriloquist dummy, which made Seven’s lip curl. It’s eerie gaze made the hairs on her neck stand up. The creature was most unnerving. 

“You ruined my yard,” Seven said sternly. 

“Signature please!” The second request made it very clear that this was not a sentient being. Perhaps a robot, or some sort of drone employee. Briefly, she acknowledged that changing the Borg Collective into a transportation network would have been a great endeavor had pillaging and assimilation gone south. 

With a passive eye-roll, she scrawled a semblance of a signature and jumped back when the courier and the ship transported off her yard just as quickly as they’d appeared. Her neighbors had started poking their heads out and the sudden scrutiny made her violently uncomfortable. Quickly she grabbed the parcels and slid them into her home, and shut the door with her foot. 

Once inside she gathered the boxes, dropped them on her table, and began to prepare a kettle. The clock on her oven indicated that it was only five in the morning. It was uncommon for her to receive physical correspondence. She rarely had any communication with anyone other than Icheb. Occasionally she would attend small get-togethers in her neighborhood, now that she had established relationships with the people in her small southwestern town. So, the parcels were confusing.

She slid into a comfortable pair of slippers and sat on the kitchen counter. The cool surface was a relief after she’d broken a sweat bolting from the home. She grabbed an orange and started peeling it, grumbling when part of the rind fell off the counter and onto the tiled floor. Her feet swung gently, her heels tapping against her cupboards. 

It was a little earlier than she was used to waking, so she wanted to start the day quietly. She had no plans today other than fixing her now-disheveled yard. Perhaps she would start tilling the soil for the garden, it was the right time of year for that. 

Once the kettle began to whistle, Seven took it off the heat and poured it into her favorite mug. It bore a striking resemblance to the one the Captain had used on Voyager. Because it was. She had taken it the night before they were to try and destroy the Borg transwarp network. If the Captain assumed the mug to have perished in the journey to Earth, she was none the wiser about its current home. Why she took it, she had no idea. The small reminder of better days. 

_Were they better?_

_Was ignorance truly bliss?_

Once her tea had cooled enough for her to drink, she grabbed her orange and sat at the table. With a cautious suspicion, she inspected the first box. It had no return address again, but this time did not seem to be sent from Starfleet at all. She peeled the tape back and peered inside timidly. 

What she had expected contrasted violently with what she spotted in the cardboard box. Prepared for weaponry or a fatal substance, Seven had braced herself. It was a black glove with white stitching. A small note was stuck to it, with a badly drawn smile at the bottom. 

_Seven,_

_I hope this reaches you promptly, I won’t be needing this where I’m going. I sent one to you and one to Icheb. Sometimes I wonder if we could have done more. If it’s any consolation, it’s been an honor parenting with you. If you’d told me that the ex-Borg from Voyager would learn to be one of the most nurturing beings on Earth, I would have called your bluff. You’re a very important person, Seven of Nine. My only regret is that it took me and the others so long to figure that out. Please reunite the gloves soon, they only work as a pair. Wouldn’t want one to get too lonely. : )_

_With my regards,_

_Chakotay._

It was more than just a sweet gesture. It was a request. He’d never told her outright, but during their regular conversations, he made the briefest of mentions of traveling on some sort of undercover mission. She no longer held the clearance to be privy to those details but she had heard enough to make sense of it- he felt as if he would not make it back. Either way, him asking her to go to Icheb at the shipyard made sense. She’d been contemplating it as well. Her version was more spying on him from afar, just to keep him safe and to give her something to do. 

She picked the glove up, surprised at how light it was. She thought to where she’d seen it. It had been hanging from the wall of Chakotay’s quarters aboard Voyager. So, she would hang it in the same manner. It was something so small but meant so much to her. They’d had such a rocky start and tumultuous relationship while in space. But the years had turned them into great friends. Her circle was small, but it was safe and for that she was thankful. 

The second package was much smaller, no larger than the orange that still sat untouched on her plate. She opened it with a little less trepidation and turned it over so a small wooden box popped out. It was well-made and painted periwinkle and lilac. Little flowers, also hand-painted, ran parallel to the edges of the box. It was beautiful. 

When she opened it, a small tune played in a sort of twinkle. Inside there was a small crudely carved caricature. It twisted and danced as the music played and for a moment she just watched it, wishing she could move as freely as the tiny wooden women. She shut it gently and turned it over. A sentence was scrawled into the bottom of the wood. 

_Happy Mother’s Day 2383_

_Love, Icheb_

Her heart warmed at the gesture. They had never really talked about the seemingly silly holiday before. But, this was their first year separated by quite a distance coupled with a lack of technology. Seven had her tablet which she used frequently to send messages but the facility Icheb was at on Utopia Planitia was so far off the grid that he had to travel for a few hours to send or receive messages. His next assignment would bring him closer, but for now communication was strained.

It now made sense why when she’d asked about his recent hobbies and was met with radio silence and a cunning diversion of the topic. It was nice to see him working on something tactile.

She set the small box on the table and went for the envelope. It almost felt like her birthday with all the attention she was receiving. 

It bore the Starfleet Insignia, which made her stop and ready herself. She gently opened it. Perhaps it was another gift from Janeway although there were no significant dates at that time. 

She pulled out a card and left the other trinkets in the envelope.

_Annika Hansen,_

_On behalf of all Starfleet Command and personnel, we wish to inform you of the death of Commander Chakotay. Attached to this letter are a certificate of death, a civilian pass to the Starfleet Cemetery in San Francisco, and his communicator. His service to Starfleet will not go unacknowledged and his name will be added to the memorial of all the personnel killed in battle. Please reach out if you wish to make any other arrangements._

_Starfleet Command._

With trembling hands, Seven set the letter down and fished the communicator out of the mailer. It seemed so tiny, so fragile. Hers was packed upstairs in her closet, a token of her time in space. She’d dealt with death before, quite a bit. This was different. This time it was personal. 

Chakotay had been more than a simple shipmate. To be listed as his next of kin stirred something inside of her. The letter was so...impersonal, generated along with many others in batches to mourning families. To see her human title was also a bit unnerving, but she assumed that if he’d labeled her with her Borg designation, the package would have never been sent. Now that Starfleet knew where she was, she had to leave. Even if they did not put the two names together, her safety had been compromised. 

Even if Janeway had sent her gifts, she knew that the Admiral would not have disclosed her address. Now his letter home made sense. He had been so important to so many people. How dare they reduce him to a swipe card and a piece of paper? Did anyone else from Voyager know?

She made a note to at least call B’Elanna and Tom, they would be devastated to hear of this loss. Did Janeway know? How would she take it? Seven understood that there had been a history of sorts with the two, and truly it didn’t bother her. Did she feel the same way about the kind, gentle man who respected his Captain so much that he would die for her? Plenty of times he and Seven had talked about how great of a leader Janeway had been. Chakotay had the same potential. She’d witnessed his natural talent for leadership multiple times. Janeway had also been very defensive of her crew when they had come back. 

For months after they’d landed, Seven had heard Janeway speak highly of every crew member that had been on Voyager, even ones who’d since passed on. It was admirable; Chakotay had exemplified the same qualities. In her honest opinion, Starfleet had taken him for granted. 

They’d taken Chakotay for granted and now he was dead. All she had of him was a boxing glove, a deactivated communicator, and a civilian pass to the Starfleet cemetery: plot number 454-A. Once again, someone she loved was gone from this Earth. It was painful but survivable. 

_She would adapt._

  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork linked below is by Annamcb24! I had her draw Seven in her new clothes!

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_

_You make me happy when skies are gray_

_-2384-_

The sound of glasses hitting each other drew her attention away from her empty drink. In the corner of the dimly lit bar, a group of patrons raised their respective drinks and smashed them together, some breaking and some staying intact. They yelled and danced, celebrating something seemingly important to them. She studied them for a few minutes, learning their behaviors and subtleties. Laying low on the shipyard was only part of the battle; at some point, she would be forced to interact with the diverse population on Mars. It would be wise to blend in as quickly as possible.

She adjusted the brim of her hat and scanned the rest of the bar. It wasn’t very friendly, unlike most establishments. The walls were barren with some of the material rotting off and leaving bullet-like holes in the structure. Beams of bluish sunlight were the only illumination in the place, it would become almost impossible to navigate when the planet rotated away from the sun. She’d spent the better half a month here. Each night she memorized who was there, what they did, and who they consorted with. So far she’d logged about 20 different species in the dive bar. Usually, she could match the species with whatever ship she’d been assigned to fix at the shop. It also made cataloging their weapons and layouts that much easier. 

When she’d gotten word of Chakotay’s death, things had changed. Starfleet now knew where she was and Seven had fallen into a chaotic paranoia that hadn’t plagued her since the Vinculum malfunction on _Voyager_. So, she’d packed her things and applied for a civilian position as a mechanic on Mars. She was stationed at Utopia Planitia, as _Annika Hansen_ of course, and had tried her best to lay low. She went to work, she went to the bar, and she went home. Weekends were spent corresponding with Icheb, who constantly asked how New Mexico was treating her, and B’Elanna who had revealed to her that she was pregnant once more. It was wonderful to hear about her dear friend’s life. Even if she couldn’t tell B’Elanna where she was or what she was doing. 

She caught movement in her peripherals and turned to see the bartender waving to her. The bartender, a deep-toned humanoid, had spoken maybe two words to Seven her entire month there. Seven had noticed that she was quiet and very rarely gave in to the rowdy patrons the place seemed to attract. She had deemed her safe upon initial inspection. 

Rather curious, Seven stood and walked the small expanse, careful to step over the body of a sleeping Romulan on the floor, drink still in hand. With one quick movement, she grabbed the glass out of his hand and kept moving towards the bar. She deposited the glass on the wooden counter, a little harder than she’d originally intended.

“Another sour?” 

Seven briefly considered it. There was no time like the present to start making contacts. She gave the bartender and simple, quick nod and pushed the glass in her hands towards her. “He won’t be needing this.”

“I make ‘em strong, that’s why. If you make their drinks stronger, they pass out faster,” The bartender admitted, shrugging. “I have no problem with them, they’re just bad for business.”

“Are they?” Seven asked.

A fresh drink was placed in front of her. She noticed the woman’s nails were painted black as she slid the drink over, which intrigued Seven. 

She seemed to be human from her appearance, European perhaps. Dark hair piled high upon her head lead Seven to believe that it was of considerable length, and dark eyes. Something about her and the dark clothes she wore held a certain allure. Almost as if this woman was expecting bad things to happen wherever she went. She certainly was attractive. Not that beauty was a priority to her. 

“It’s not their fault,” she began. “They were sent here when part of their planet became unlivable, or so they say,” the bartender rolled her eyes and very obviously changed what she was about to say when Seven didn’t take the bait. 

“They hate us, we hate them. It’s just polite at this point. We don’t interact. I make drinks, they pass out, I have the guards carry them out. They come back the next time. At least they tip well.”

Seven was quickly losing interest. Originally she thought the woman would have something of value to say. Intergalactic relationships were something she held little interest in. She tapped her glass on the bar one, preparing to down it when the bartender’s hand landed on her jacketed arm. She felt a small squeeze over the mesh on her wrist and fought against her natural reaction to pull away. 

The bartender gave her a knowing look, “I meant no harm. I just had a favor to ask of you, if you’re willing.”

Seven eyed the woman for a moment. She wasn’t here to play games, she was here to watch Icheb. Most of her free time was spent working. She regenerated every other weekend, in between her regular chats with B’Elanna. Her mobile regenerator, a compact unit the size of a soup can, had gone with her many times. She treated it with care considering the only person available to fix it was her half-Klingon friend. Her time was allotted and arranged most efficiently; old habits died hard. 

“Explain.”

“I need you,” the bartender looked down at her fidgeting hands. “as muscle. My guards for the overnight shift got caught up in some smuggling thing and are currently sitting in the jails on the other side of the planet. Normally I wouldn’t ask a stranger, but I’ve seen you in here for weeks with no issue. I don’t know what it is about you, but people just give you a wide berth. It’s intimidating. Hell, even _I’m_ scared of you.”

“It’s because they have heard of my legendary ‘left hook’”, Seven squeezed her Borg hand and shattered the glass in her hand immediately. The grandiose showcase of her strength was generally not something she partook in, but a bit of fun was alright. If anything, it just emphasized that she was not one to be bothered. 

The wide-eyed bartender stared at Seven, the white of her eyes clashing with her dark appearance. 

“Humor. A joke,” Seven added. “I am not prone to making them, but I attempt occasionally.”

“Oh!” The bartender looked visibly relieved. “I didn’t see you as the joking type. That’s quite a _physical_ sense of humor you have.”

“I’m not,” the grit was back in Seven’s voice while her intimidating exterior slid back into place, “the joking type.”

The bartender took a few seconds to study her face before sticking her hand out. “Jay.”

 _Jay._ The name didn’t fit the woman in front of her. It seemed too plain, too human. Perhaps she was projecting- it was hard to hear her human name all of the time. It reminded her of all the things she was deprived of. 

Seven took the proffered hand in hers a shook it once. She debated on how much information to reveal to the woman. Granted the bartender hadn’t asked her for anything. She just wasn’t sure how friendly to appear considering she’d never really needed to be friendly. Oh, if the Doctor could see her now. 

“Annika.” 

“Cute! I like it.”

Seven raised an eyebrow, “Thank you.”

“When can you start?” Jay stepped back, dipped under the counter, and surfaced with a towel in hand. She wrapped it around the glass shards on the wooden bar and slid them into a basin on the floor. 

“I am free beginning tomorrow,” Seven offered. Icheb didn’t generally leave his quarters once he’d entered them for the night. 

Jay poured her another sour and winked. “I appreciate it. You get half of the tips too!”

“Unnecessary.” 

“You don’t want to be paid?”

“I do not require monetary compensation. I may occasionally need the occasional conversation and a drink, if I may?” 

“You want to talk to me?” Jay looked apprehensive. “I’m not the best at conversation. I don’t really know much about anything going on outside of this bar.”

“It will suffice. I am...” Seven exhaled slowly, biting her lower lip. A blush crept up her neck and touched her ears. 

Was she _flirting_? 

“You’re?” Jay insisted.

Seven was uncomfortable at the uncharacteristically vulnerable admission, “Lonely. I am rather lonely.” 

Seven saw the realization dawn on the bartender and hoped she hadn’t given the wrong impression. She was lonely to talk with any sentient being. Being out here on Mars had proven even more isolating. There would be days on end where she didn’t utter a sound all day. Even if it didn’t appear that the bartender was a fan of philosophical discussion, it would be nice to just _talk_ to someone. 

Seven raised her hand and bid the bartender goodnight. She walked back through the bar, impressed that the man on the floor was upright again, and held no grudge over her removing his drink earlier. She stepped out into the night and inhaled deeply. The air on mars was heavier, denser than it was on Earth. 

Her quarters were inside of a lodging facility originally meant for the crew currently putting the finishing touches on the USS Coleman, a science ship currently dry-docked a few miles away. She knew Icheb had been recruited to join the ship but he had yet to tell her. It hurt to mislead him; he was under the impression that she was still in the tiny house in New Mexico tending to her new garden. It wasn’t a deliberate falsification of her plans per se; she did plan on gardening some time in the future. Horticulture appealed to her. 

Even with the promise from Janeway to look over him, Seven still felt that it was her responsibility to keep him safe.

At all costs. 

Which meant taking a gig working the door at a bar usually infested with mechanics and workers exhausted after a day’s work. She needed to lay low, blend in with the crowd. Her shop coveralls were doing her no favors here. A change of wardrobe was in order. If she was going to be working the door, she would need something a little less grease-stained and a little more...tactical. 

The mile trek to her side of the yards was littered with shops and booths that were for people to purchase trinkets to send home to loved ones. There were a few places for clothing, so she decided to inspect them and see if any of them could help her. 

After about an hour, she emerged from the last shop partially satisfied with her purchases. Once she reached her small apartment, she discarded the bags and began her transformation. Part of blending in meant she needed to change her most prominent features. The Borg hardware scattered across her body was permanent. So, she would have to conceal it as low-key as possible.

First, she pulled off her coveralls and deposited them into the hamper at the end of the bed. It was easier to throw all of her garments in the recycler at once. Next, her undershirt and socks landed in the bin. She turned to the mirror and critically inspected her body. It wasn’t something she had any particular feelings over; the concept of beauty and sexuality was one of humanity’s more narcissistic characteristics. Copulation was at the forefront of everyone’s minds, making them no more than aroused rabbits with lethal weaponry. She had once been guilty of the same foolishness and it had cost her one of the most remarkable friendships she had. 

She slid one hand over the implant on her bicep. Of all the ones on her body, this was the one she was most conscious of. There was no good reason other than that’s where Janeway had insisted on touching her every time they interacted. It was sensitive to temperature changes, which was a bonus of her biometric suit. It had eliminated the comfort aspect of atmospheric variances. Such as when the Captain’s warm hand covered her arm and made her shiver. However, now that she was without it, she found herself frequently cold on Mars and shivering from a less-pleasurable source.

Eventually, she stripped naked and began to walk back and forth in front of the mirror. She sized herself up and began to test different ways of carrying herself. Her stance and center of gravity were already the most efficient for a defense. In this situation though, she would be on the offense projecting a sense of power and stability towards the bar patrons. She squatted down and tested her range of motion using the new stances. 

She recalled a time when the Doctor had been explaining the appeal of a “swagger” which to Seven had meant a pirate. He had tried to illustrate the concept but became frustrated and ended up calling the Captain into sickbay. Once she’d arrived, the Doctor had apologized for his mistake and Janeway had turned and left, shaking her head all the way. 

Except there was no actual mistake, the lesson had been learned. Seven quickly figured out that Janeway’s long, confident strides were what demonstrated most of her compelling, dominating character. The Doctor had known that she studied the Captain frequently. He’d used her crush against her and smiled gleefully the entire time. The tables had turned and she almost found it humorous. That knowledge remained unused until now. 

She practiced the loose but intentional stride for a while until she was satisfied. Even if every step felt wrong, it looked right and that was all the mattered. She walked closer to the mirror, studying her face intently. She looked tense, on edge, because she was those things. She took some deep breaths and tried her best at relaxing the muscles in her face. Immediately, she saw the difference in appearance. Her appearance was now one of quiet contemplation. She looked...formidable. 

Next came the clothes. There was a less-than-impressive selection at the plaza but she had made do. Her undergarments were thick, almost canvas-like. If she were to be involved in her fair share of hand to hand combat, she needed protection. Next were the pants, a dark camouflage pattern similar to the Earth’s old fatigues. They sat baggy on her frame since they were men’s, as was her shirt. The material had been superior and they accommodated weaponry. Also, even if vanity was irrelevant, she’d had enough experience being ogled to know that unless she hid her body under loose clothing, she would still call attention. 

An olive shirt with a simple kit belt completed it. She’d also gotten boots, but those would take a few wears around her quarters before they’d be comfortable enough to stand in for hours on end. 

She had no idea what to do with her hair. She hadn’t paid much attention to it, considering for most of her life she was bald. She decided to just leave it to do whatever it wanted. Her hands deftly removed the pins from her hair and she knew instantly that her appearance was perfect. 

She looked powerful, nondescript. With her hair falling softly around her shoulders, she sauntered up to the mirror and looked directly into her own eyes. She practiced her movements once more, taking extra care to look confident above all else. She stored the clothing until she began her shift the next day. 

Once she was done and tidied her mess, she ran herself a bath and audibly moaned at how the warm water felt. She had about six hours before Icheb would wake, leave his quarters, and board the ship for his day’s work. Then, Seven would have to report to the yards for her shift, then to the bar to watch the door. Which lead to most of her day being gone. It wasn’t the most efficient schedule but it kept Icheb safe and her employed. Plus, the idea of having someone to talk to brought a little intrigue to the table. 

The next morning Seven woke early and packed her new clothes in her bag. She donned the coveralls that she wore every morning and headed out the front door, grabbing an apple as she went. 

By the time she got to the bus station, Icheb had already been seated. She entered through the back and sat in the corner. Once the bus started, she began to use her elevated hearing to pick out Icheb’s voice. Sometimes he rode with his friends, occasionally he rode alone with a book. It tore at her heart to see him and not be able to say anything. All she wanted to do was sweep him into her arms, even if he was about the same height as her. She longed to rustle his hair, or kiss his sweet forehead just one more time. She missed when he called her Seven, and when he told her about his time at the Academy. Many stories had been left out of the databanks until he had graduated. Simple pranks, embarrassing stories that usually left them giggling like children. She missed that greatly. She missed her people. Even if her circle was small, it was strong. 

All she wanted right now was someone to talk to. 

-x-

She strode into the nearly empty bar with her pack in tow. Jay looked a little run down. Her dark hair was mussed, spilling slightly over her head. The bar was messy, which was unusual. Jay looked up to her and her mood visibly changed. Her hands shot out and grabbed Seven’s, squeezing gently. The contact shot right through her and it took a lot not to cry out. 

Was she that touch starved?

“Ah, I’m so glad you’re here,” Jay said, clearly exasperated. “I’ve had two fights and it’s barely past dinner. You can put your bag back here. Is that what you wear outside of your coveralls? Damn, no wonder everyone’s intimidated by you, you’re hot!”

Seven bent and tossed her pack under the bar, deliberately ignoring the compliment. Jay lead her around the back in a quick tour. Her arm found Seven’s elbow, and despite her body telling her to pull away, she did not. 

“Where is everyone?” Seven asked curiously.

Jay groaned, “They’re all gone now. I think they either went home or found a different bar to trash. Once I kicked them out, they didn’t come back. I ain’t sorry about it, I have six chairs, two tables, and the whole music system needing repair.” 

“I can assist with repairs,” Seven offered with a curt nod towards the pile of furniture on the floor. 

“You, you don’t have to do that. I know you said you work a lot and-”

“I like to be useful,” Seven admitted softly. “I _need_ to be useful.”

“I won’t say no. But, I gotta ask, what are you doing here? You’re a beautiful woman with a lot of skills. What are you, a criminal on the run? Do I have to deny your existence if anyone asks?”

She hadn’t thought of a cover story. _Her mistake._ The idea had been to interact as little as possible. In her original plan, she stood in the shadows until Icheb departed. Janeway had said multiple times that the best lies had a shred of truth. So, she told as little as possible. 

“I am...healing. My history is complicated - filled with little love and lots of battle.”

“No love?”

“I _have_ loved and will continue to do so. People find it difficult to love me. I am...damaged.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” Jay led her over to the stools at the bar and motioned for her to sit down. “Is that why you’re so lonely?”

“Not totally. I- yes,” Seven shook her head and looked towards the ceiling. She set her drink on a small end table and fiddled with a thread on her pants. 

She did not _fiddle_. 

Emotion overpowered her senes, threatening to overtake the mask she had set in place. She would not cry on her first shift here. She did not know this woman and it was embarrassing to lose her composure so quickly. Her hands dug into her lap on the stool. 

“Do you have any friends?”

“Here? No.”

“On Earth?” 

“A few.”

“Family?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Seven smiled as the woman handed her a drink. It was nice to talk to someone. She was a person with no past here, no demons haunting her every move. “I have a rather large extended family, but they are not the type to be invested in my feelings. I’m not even sure they realize I’ve left.”

Jay looked at her sympathetically. She grabbed Seven’s hands and squeezed them twice. 

“Well, I’ll let up with the interrogation, Annika. It’s almost rush hour and I’m not sure this place will be standing if we have another rush like we did this afternoon.” 

Seven grabbed her glass off the table and downed the rest of her drink, the booze burning a trail down to her stomach. 

“Wait!” Seven turned around curiously. Had she forgotten something?

“Yes?”

Jay stopped wiping the bar and shot her a coy look. 

“What was your ex’s name on Earth?”

Seven wondered if that was too much information to give. But, she desperately needed to talk to someone, especially someone who wasn’t from Earth.

“How did you know I had an ex?”

Jay paled, “I just assumed since you’re pretty hot. You must have a trail of lovers leading from here to that stupid planet.”

Seven chuckled at how incorrect that assumption was. 

“Kathryn.”

“Well, I’ll tell ya what. Kathryn is a damned fool. I’ll bet she’s kicking herself right now.”

“I, I appreciate that. Thank you.”

Jay winked at her and went back to wiping down the bar. 

Seven gave herself a moment to gather her bearings. Was Jay coming onto her? She’d never engaged in such banter before. She felt a tingle in her belly, and suddenly she realized she understood what people meant when they said that had “butterflies”. She had no desire to seek out a partner, especially when she had more pressing issues at hand. Regardless, she had barely met this person and no matter badly she needed a friend, she had to remember that Icheb’s safety was paramount. 

In all honesty, she was scared. Petrified. The years alone had gone without many issues however on Mars she had no one. No Chakotay, no Doctor, No Janeway. All of her people were either dead, dormant, or busy with their own lives. She was truly alone. 

It was times like these when the voices of the collective seemed like a worthy alternative. She’d been disconnected and left to rot. The small fire in her heart that happened when Jay said her name wasn’t something she could necessarily control. 

Being appreciated and cared for couldn’t be wrong. 

Right?

[Seven in her new clothes](https://twitter.com/SevenOfFiine/status/1280865914586570753/photo/1)   
  
  



	8. Chapter 8

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_

_Please don't take my sunshine away_

_-2385-_

A considerable crowd formed around one of the docks on one of the shipyards. Filled mostly with workers, the group had been growing larger since she’d arrived an hour earlier. The _USS Coleman_ had returned after the third trip out to the Gamma Quadrant. The ship, which had finished it’s assignment two weeks prior, had been released from DS9 and transferred back to the shipyards for modifications. 

Seven watched quietly from a distance. She leaned against a wooden table where most of the shipyard mechanics ate their lunches. She trailed her fingertips aimlessly over the rough wood, tracing the scratches and following their shapes. The other hand was blocking out the floodlights aimed her way. She squinted as the bright light offended her human eye and soon multicolor spots danced in front of her. 

A hand slid into hers and she turned and saw Jay slide up behind her. She squeezed her hand and leaned into the smaller bartender. Seven hesitated for a moment, still unused to public affection. For too long she had been a hidden figure, a treasure tucked away from everyone else. To be desired out in the open was unfamiliar but not unwelcome. The breeze blew their hair around, making the contrasting strands weave around each other. Seven loved it when Jay wore her hair down. It was soft and she had many memories of running her hands through it while it was splayed over her abdomen. It made sense now why her prior suitors held a fondness for playing with her hair. 

They had a strange relationship dynamic; Jay never asked for any commitment, which was nice. It went against everything she had been taught about relationships on _Voyager_ , but she figured that was more the Doctor’s fault than anything else. It had been obvious that he geared all of her knowledge towards courting _him_.

Jay’s tanned arms wrapped around Seven’s waist and gently tugged her into an embrace. It was nice to be held like this. Very rarely did she feel comfortable being touched so intimately. For a long while, she pondered if she truly felt that way or if it was just something she borrowed from her former Captain. Many of her physicalities she realized were learned from Janeway. Either way, she accepted the gesture. They were out of sight and no one knew them here. Even if Seven’s fellow mechanics were around, none of them had ever gotten past last-name basis. 

They stayed like that for a little while until Seven felt teeth gently skimming the skin right under her ear. Immediately, her body responded and it took everything she had to move away. Jay pushed gently and spun her around so they were facing each other. 

“I didn’t expect to find you out here, Annika.” Jay waved towards the group of people. 

“I’m watching the ship come down. I like to see what they look like after they’ve been through so much,” she lied through her teeth. It wasn’t a large lie, but it was far from the truth. 

“You’re lying but it’s okay,” Jay purred, wrapping her arms around Seven once more. Her hands rubbed against her torso, dipping just into her work pants and back out again.

“You’re a goddamn tease,” Seven whispered, trying to reign herself in. This display was very out of character for the bartender. Perhaps she was going to be asked to pick up another bartending shift. Would the bribery work? Likely. 

Jay tugged her closer, the feeling of her pressing into Seven’s back was driving her wild. “I wouldn’t do it if you didn’t like it so much.”

Seven took the bait. “How do you know that I enjoy this?”

Jay slid her hand downwards once more. “Let’s just say I have my ways. I know you, Annika. I know how you like it.”

Seven didn’t want to admit it but, the sex was good. It had been so long, too long since she’d felt needed. Even if it was for only a few minutes every other week, the feeling of a body beside hers was comforting in more ways than one. Did she still love her Captain? Of course, she always would. Kathryn Janeway was her soulmate, the love of her life. There were nights when Jay occupied her space but she dreamt of her Captain. Of the crinkle in her left eyebrow when she was disappointed and the way her hands turned pink when she was mad. Every day something seemed to remind her of her former Captain. The memories were still very clear, but the pain had dulled slightly. It no longer was an open wound; she had begun to heal. 

But that ship had sailed and someone was willing to be with her here and now. Even if Seven didn’t love Jay, it was close enough. She could pretend. She pretended with Chakotay sometimes, thinking maybe if she’d just been severed by him instead that she would have chosen him to cling to in the basement of Voyager. Her whole life had been pretending. She was a pretend parent, a pretend lover, and a pretend member of _Voyager_. 

She knew it was wrong to submit to someone so ill-equipped for her. It was _bullshit, even_. Their power dynamic was flipped and even though Seven should have grimaced when the name “Annika” erotically poured from the bartender’s lips, she didn’t. On the contrary, it dismantled her from the inside out. Every time Jay overpowered her, she felt a piece of her facade crumble. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she played along for the sake of her mission. Maybe she liked the pain. 

The pain was a constant reminder that she was here for more than just herself. 

She had a mission. 

Besides, the time passed quicker when otherwise occupied. Icheb had been gone for almost a year. The ship had docked twice to go get checked, but Seven had yet to reveal that she had been on Mars to watch. She did not intend to lie. But, she didn’t want him worried about her while exploring. Granted, a scientific vessel was not much threat, but the same could have been said about _Voyager_ and those results had been less-than-desirable. 

How would Icheb react when he eventually learned of her dalliance with the dark, mysterious bartender on Mars? Perhaps she wouldn’t tell him. Even though he was a fully-maturated adult now, a _man_ , he still had his moments where he was vulnerable. Much of their correspondence had been about how much he missed Earth. Even if it held so many memories of heartbreak, Seven missed Earth too. But, she was doing the best that she could to keep Icheb safe. And, if that meant that she copulated with a sultry bartender who hired her under the table to throw out patrons, well so be it. 

She didn’t have to like it, she just had to survive it. 

Something about her had changed. It just wasn’t something that had a name quite yet. 

B’Elanna had been the guiding voice in her decision to fall victim to human desires. During one of their video calls, Seven had made the mistake of mentioning Jay and blushing. Her friend had pounced on that detail and ran with it. First, she had made Seven do many turns to show off her new look. 

After screaming about how hot she was for nearly a half-hour, B’Elanna had asked about her relationship with Jay. Seven had admitted her crush on the bartender and for the rest of the hour had been subjected to all sorts of vulgar predictions about Jay’s sexual preferences. If there was something Torres was good at, it was talking about people’s sex lives. Even if she pretended to hate it, there was a particular twinkle in her friend’s eye whenever her sex life came up. 

They revisited the topic a few weeks later and Seven admitted that they’d begun a “friends with benefits” type of situation. B’Elanna had grilled her about the details like some sort of inquisition. The call had ended once her friend had started to make faux sexual noises to get a rise out of her. It had been mortifying, but also nice. She’d laughed a lot - something she had not done in many years. 

Jay kissed the side of her neck and slid down her body, taking a final seat at the picnic table,

Before Seven could answer, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. The crew was spilling out of the ship in an impressive semblance of order. Most of them had probably disembarked when the ship had first landed. It was likely that the department heads were the only ones to travel to the shipyards.

The crowd began dispersing in every direction with only a few people in one group left chatting. The group was slapping each other’s shoulders and laughing. She spotted Icheb in the middle of the group, making some sort of gesture with his hands. He looked happy, he had friends. A small weight was lifted off of her shoulders. Icheb began jumping up and down, his hands in the air. The whole group turned to face them, and it was then Seven knew that she’d been spotted. 

The pure joy on his face was infectious and immediately Seven mirrored the same smile. She ran to him, arms out. They jumped into each other’s arms and before Icheb could talk, Seven whispered, “Everyone knows me as Annika here, I have no past.”

He nodded into her shoulder and a small whimper escaped him. That was all it took for Seven to lose the facade she had crafted so diligently. Fat, hot tears poured down her face, making the dirt in the air cling to her face. 

“Annika! What brings you here?” Icheb asked once they had parted. The name was clumsy between the two of them. Never once had he addressed her that way. 

She leaned back in and whispered, “I have been watching from afar. Eyes are everywhere. Lay low. Follow my lead.”

“Annika!” Seven let go of Icheb and turned around to see Jay jogging towards them. “You just took off! I thought something was wrong!”

“Apologies.” Seven raised both her hands gently. “This is Icheb. He is an acquaintance from Earth. Icheb, this is Jay. She runs the bar over by the plaza.”

“Nice to meet you,” Icheb greeted her and stuck his hand out. “I haven’t seen Annika in years!”

“I never had _that_ kind of reaction to my friends” Jay shook his hand and motioned towards Seven’s tear-stained face. “You two must be close!”

Jay untucked her shirt, walked over to Seven, and raised the bottom hem to wipe the dirt off her face. Seven faltered slightly at the familiar touch. She hadn’t even gotten to properly introduce the two. 

“Very,” Icheb said. He put an arm around Seven’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “We’re practically family. Would it be okay if I borrowed her tonight? I haven’t seen her in ages and I would love to catch up.”

“Of course!” Jay nodded and back up a few steps. “I’ll cover the door tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Annika?”

Seven nodded and cast a glance at the man next to her. She weighed her options quickly and stepped forward towards Jay. With gentle a gentle grip, she placed a hand on either side of her face and kissed the bartender’s lips gently. She whispered, “Thank you.” against her lips and kissed her once more. 

Jay put her hands over Seven’s and looked directly into her eyes. 

“Be safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that Jay turned and began her walk back to the table. Seven looked back at Icheb and tried her best not to cry again. This would mean her plans had changed, but as usual, she would adapt. 

“Come with me,” she requested. 

-x-

“You mean to tell me that you’ve been less than a mile from me the entire time?” Icheb’s tone was angry, but Seven could tell that he’d been hurt. 

They both sat on the couch in Seven’s quarters. The walk back had been great for catching up but once Icheb had realized they were close to his building he’d become agitated. 

“I understand if you are upset with me. Please know that I did just to make sure that you were safe.”

“Didn’t you trust me to stay safe?”

“Yes. Of course, I did. I’m trying to keep you safe, not out of trouble. There are malevolent people everywhere! Just because you are not on Earth, does not mean that there are no forces out to get us.” Seven paced from her bed to the front door and back. 

Icheb was quiet for a moment and asked in a much quieter tone, “Who?”

Seven shrugged, “I truly do not know. I was warned that we would be watched by The Federation once _Voyager_ landed. People within Starfleet were implicated as something to watch out for as well. I have no information on other planets.”

“Fuck Starfleet!” Icheb muttered. He put his head in his hands grunted a few more expletives. “I hate them.”

“You wear their uniform.”

“It doesn’t matter! None of it matters! They let him die!” Icheb was yelling at this point. 

“Who?” As soon as she asked the question, she knew the answer. Of course. How had she forgotten?

“Who? Who?” Icheb stood and threw his arms out. 

Seven faltered. This was not going according to plan. “I know. I’m sorry. I spoke without thinking. What makes you think Starfleet let him die?”

“They set him up! His ship was boarded and somehow all of the crew, except for him, survive? I call bullshit!” Tears began to form in his eyes. 

“I did not know of that. I only know what I received in my letter.” Seven admitted. “He sent me correspondence as well, urging me to watch over you. He loved you.”

“He loved you too. I miss him dearly. I wanted revenge for a long time, but I doubt anyone will look into what happened. So once again: Fuck Starfleet and everyone who let my father die!”

Seven was cautious not to misspeak again, “I agree.”

His shoulders sagged as the wind left his sails. She could visibly see him come down from his bout of rage. It wasn’t something that she would hold over his head. She’d had her fair share of grief-stricken outbursts. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’ve just been stressed out from this third round of flying. I requested a transfer back to Earth and it was declined. I’ve been scheduled for three more rounds of this! Why would Starfleet refuse to let me back on Earth?”

She smiled, it was obvious to her. A very, very small part of her found it endearing. Most of her found it meddlesome. This was someone’s career she’d been tampering with. 

“Janeway.”

“The Admiral? She assigned me initially but I have a Captain now.”

“She is simply ‘pulling strings’, Icheb. She cares a great deal for you, you know.”

“No. I don’t know. She abandoned this family.”

Seven frowned, “No, she did not. She had been present for you consistently during your career.”

“She abandoned _you!_ ”

“Oh.”

“And you are part of this family, Seven! Don’t forget that. You’re allowed to be mad at her. Even if you’ve moved on! You can still be mad at her.”

The admission and permission to grieve took her by surprise. It wasn’t that she’d been asking for it, but to know that someone else understood what had happened to her was relieving. Something angry formed in her belly and worked its way up her esophagus until it exploded in the form of a guttural sob. Icheb stood up and made his way over to her, enveloping her into one of the tightest hugs she’d ever received. 

Icheb made calming noises and muttered apologetic words while moving her back to the couch. They broke apart and Seven swiped at her cheeky angrily. This day had been filled with too many tears. She attempted to speak a few times and became frustrated when no words seemed to come out. 

Icheb sat there with a warm hand on her back until the tears had subsided and her breathing was stable. 

“I did not mean to react that way. I just wanted to emphasize that she has continued to watch you from afar. It isn’t safe on Earth for us. We can’t go back right now, if ever. I do have an idea though.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, how long are you back for?”

“Six weeks, although my allegiance to Starfleet has wavered now that I know they let Chakotay die. Or rather, had him murdered.”

“Be careful who you say that to!” Seven warned. “There are spies everywhere. Many people who would sell us out for little to nothing. People who want to see us fail. I want us to visit the cemetery where he is buried. Could we do that? We couldn’t say long but, we could go. You could then decide if you’d like to resign or keep the commission.”

“Who wants us? Is it because we were Borg or because we were on _Voyager_?”

“I do not have that information right now. But, something is amiss. Janeway explained that to me at your graduation. Contacting her would go against everything I’ve spent the last year and a half doing.”

“That’s not the only thing you’ve been _doing,_ ” Icheb pointed out with a coy smile.

“Icheb! How crude!”

“Sorry! I just wanted to make light of it. _You_ of all people have a girlfriend? I’m only a little jealous.” He feigned hurt and gave her a sarcastic wave. 

“We are not girlfriends. I do not know what we are. We are close. That is all I can say. But, I keep her at arm’s length. Just because I have shared nights with her, does not mean I trust her,” Seven was relieved that he had taken the news so well. Though, his phrasing could have been a little more appropriate. She blamed the atmosphere of the ship, Seven was no stranger to the types of talks men had in space. 

“I understand. You’ve been out here alone since when?”

“About two weeks after I got word of Chakotay’s death. I kept the property in New Mexico, I think Tom and B’Elanna are going to stay there when they go on vacation. I own the lot, I just cannot be there right now. His death certificate and belongings were sent to Annika Hansen, but I believe Starfleet to already know that we are the same.”

“Oh, that’s quite a long time to be alone.” Icheb sounded sad. “At least I have friends here.”

“It was. But I am no longer alone. Now, let’s plan this trip out.” Seven retrieved the information on where Chakotay had been buried. She was eager to change the topic. Her loneliness is what had landed in the bartender’s bed. 

Icheb’s remarks had caught her attention though. Had someone truly set him up? Even though he had been Maquis, his allegiance to Starfleet had been proven over and over again. Perhaps it was someone outside of the organization? All Seven knew was that she would have to be even more careful from here on out. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for semi-graphic character death! We all kinda knew this was coming, but that doesn't make it hurt less.

_You told me once, dear, you really loved me_

_And no one else could come between_

-2386-

Seven sighed, staring out the window of the small ship. Her breath puffed against the window in the shape of a cloud. Most of her day had been spent in the bottom deck, getting briefed by Jay. They were almost to their destination but traveling for days on a cramped ship was no longer something Seven enjoyed at all. It was out of character for her to go on an away mission for the Fenris Rangers and she was already regretting her choice. 

They’d gotten word of the Rangers during a night at the bar a couple of months back. A troop of men from Fenris had come in asking all kinds of questions about the locals and the social climate on Mars. Seven, uninterested, had given them the bare minimum. Jay, on the other hand, had made her opinions on the goings-on very apparent and took no criticism of them. The men, after a few rounds of ale, had explained the need for the Rangers and how they were on Mars to catch a black market technology dealer. 

They had all gone downstairs while Seven had covered behind the bar. Too many times she had seen a poorly planned mutiny quickly go south. Her goal, after keeping Icheb safe, was to lay low. The last thing she wanted to happen was for someone to get wind of her location due to some silly self-serving project. 

Eventually, they had piqued her interest after many attempts. According to Jay, they had proposed a Borg reclamation of sorts. The schematics were on hold, but the idea was to find the remaining Borg vessels and disconnect the drones that had survived the virus that Admiral Janeway from the future had released. The idea of being a champion for the drones who could not fight for themselves interested her greatly. However, the logistics of it proved to be pretty difficult.

She still wouldn’t commit fully to the organization. But, their interest in freeing drones had swayed her interest. Jay couldn’t understand why Seven refused to fall in line with the group. How did she explain that her grief had started to seem like a black hole she would never emerge from? She’d taken this mission as a means of escape. She had spent too many nights cooped up in her apartment drinking her feelings away. 

A few weeks prior, she and Icheb (accompanied by B’Elanna, Tom, and Miral) had made plans to visit Chakotay’s gravesite. It had been the first time she had left Mars in nearly two years. 

They had all rendezvoused at their designated spot a few miles from the main building. The place looked desolate and unattended to. No one had even asked for their passes. It looked as if no one had been tending to the graves for quite some time.

According to Tom, who had recently been promoted to Captain, everyone was scrambling to try and find places for Romulans before their planet self-destructed. Most of the second and tertiary postings for staff had been postponed until Starfleet could rebuild their population. Even Tuvok had been summoned to resume his position at the Academy. Admirals who had since retired from active command had been called to man ships. 

When she had asked Tom about the Fenris Rangers, he had just explained that, while he admired the work, he couldn’t commit. B’Elanna was nearing the end of her second pregnancy and he couldn’t justify leaving his family behind to “galavant across the galaxy like a western vigilante”.

She understood. Normally, this mission wasn’t something she would be interested in doing. But, hearing about the displaced families trying to seek shelter and being denied simply for their heritage struck something inside of her. Many times she’d been mistreated simply because she bore the mark of the Borg. So, she had signed on. Eventually, after a lot of pleading, Icheb had been allowed to join too. It still did not sit right with her, but he knew exactly how to push her buttons. 

She’d only been on a handful of jobs, mostly negotiating fair trade deals and helping planets that threatened to be destroyed from various spatial anomalies. It kept her fit, it kept Icheb out of trouble, and it brought them together as a family. Most of the time she sat them out and watched the bar for Jay. 

During all of that, she and Jay had started to grow apart. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she just had things to do now. She and Icheb spent a lot of time together. He had officially quit Starfleet and to everyone’s surprise, there was little pushback. Seven gathered that had hurt him more than he let on. They didn’t talk about Janeway or any of their time on _Voyager_. The past stayed put while they worked on ensuring a future - for everyone.

Part of Seven knew that her head wasn’t in the game. For too long she’d had an unwavering devotion in her obedience. Now, the thought of answering to someone left a bad taste in her mouth. She did, however, start conditioning again. Her first few weeks as a Ranger had been eye-opening. She’d become complacent, she had _adapted_ too well. 

Lazy. Weak. 

She had become unfocused. 

She had become too human.

For years she had masked her Borg tendencies and spent hours on end adapting. Even back in the cargo bay, she would enter her alcove simply begging the universe to help her recover her humanity. Back then, she’d assumed that her biggest problem Earthside would be when Janeway ultimately had to explain away her embarrassing lack of societal knowledge. It was painfully obvious that her “quirks” were generally just nuisances that Janeway found adorable. Other people did not feel the same way. 

Now, she was stuck in the basement of a bar listening to the men blather on about honor and respect. When she’d been asked to join the Rangers, she’d assumed it would be a noble cause. Not that she needed recognition, that was the opposite of what she wanted. The initial plan of action for this job was to work silently in tandem with planets that were too small or too technologically stunted to be of use the Federation. 

Little by little she became more and more skeptical of the band of hooligans they had recruited. Part of her wanted to ask Icheb if was adverse to moving to a different faction, perhaps on the other side of Mars or a neighboring planet. There were many packets of Rangers stored in the galaxy. Perhaps another one would be filled with less tomfoolery and more focus. 

Jay had told Icheb stories of great heroism and nobility while swaying him into joining the Fenris Rangers. She’d emphasized how great it would feel to be doing something that the Federation could not. It had appealed to him, and soon he was working alongside Seven, much to her discomfort.

He and Seven began training together. It had been quite a bonding experience. He’d put quite a bit of muscle on his lanky body and Seven had gotten a chance to simply let her robotic instincts take over. Sometimes when she was throwing whole boulders over her shoulders, sweat dripping down her face, her arms aching, she felt normal. She forgot about heartbreak and abandonment. She forgot about all the promises that had been broken and all the friends who never made it home. She became the automaton that she had spent so long hiding. It began to show her that those parts of her could exist together. She was not required to separate them to make people comfortable being around her. 

It was obvious that Icheb had been swept up in some romantic hero-worship of the Fenris Rangers. He seemed to be taking more and more responsibility within the group. He and Jay had become close during their away missions. It was nice to see him bond with someone since Chakotay had died. Still, Seven remained at home when she could. It hurt to be away from him so often, but the experience he was getting was crucial to his survival if it ever came to it. 

Making strong cocktails was more interesting than listening to the boys talk about which of their torpedoes packed the most punch. 

Sometimes Jay indicated that she wanted to become more than just bedmates but Seven was having a hard time wrapping her head around it. When Jay had suggested that she leave her day job as a mechanic to work full time at the bar, Seven had shut it down quickly. The topic had not been broached since. It had been quite a point of contention between them. When asked about why she refused to commit to anything on Mars, Seven would usually change the Some part of her would always pine over the Admiral. It pained her to admit it, but she would cave at the drop of a hat if Janeway asked her for anything. She wasn’t very proud of that fact, but there was no reason to deny it. The woman held power over her and she knew it. 

She would leave this life and go wherever Kathryn Janeway asked her to. It felt like a terminal illness. To consistently ache for the affection from the one person on the planet who had consistently rebuked her efforts. Even though she knew just how _attracted_ to her Janeway was; something had spooked her. When Janeway panicked, there was a reason. 

The whine of the engines began to fade and Seven knew they were close. She placed a warm hand on Icheb’s thigh just next to hers and squeezed once. It would be his sixth mission with the Fenris Rangers and only his fourth foray off the planet. The Coleman was likely much different than the rinky-dink ship they were currently packed into. Jay had been assigned to pilot the craft, which gave Seven and Icheb time to talk. 

He’d asked her all kinds of questions about where they were going. Seven, ever prepared, had given him a general idea of the environment and stressed that the air outside might not be suitable for breathing. She would be fine, thanks to her Borg-enhanced features. But, with Icheb it was always unknown what he would be protected against since he’d not maturated all the way. 

“You ready?” Seven asked, breaking the heavy silence in the room. 

Icheb looked up at her, obviously a little nervous. She knew that he wanted to make her proud, to follow in the footsteps of all the great leaders he adored. 

Oh, if Janeway could see him now. Their Icheb was all grown, a strong man with a heart of gold. Willing to spend his leave defend people from the evils of the world. He still wore his uniform, even after his resignation. People were more willing to comply with someone who looked put-together. 

“As I’ll ever be. Do you ever get nervous?” He slid his leg onto the bench and turned towards her. 

“I do,” she admitted. “I used to believe that human emotions were a weakness. But, the longer I am severed from the Collective and tethered to Earth, I find that my emotions are a simple reminder that I am alive.”

Icheb looked at her for a moment, simply making eye contact. Then, he dipped his head and began to nod slowly. “Is this mission that dangerous? Should I be this worried? The other ones didn’t bother me like this!”

“It is wise to approach everything with trepidation when it comes to peacekeeping. Some people don’t want peace, they want chaos so they can reign.”

“Okay, Tuvok,” Icheb laughed at her. “You don’t seem nervous.” 

“Self-preservation,” Seven explained. “I don’t let anyone see my fear. It is a piece of me that only a few are allowed. To show someone that they invoke emotion in you is either a sign of trust or a sign of foolishness.”

“I still have this feeling of doom. I’ve never felt that before.”

Seven held her arms out and smiled when Icheb embraced her back. He was almost too big to hug like this, but her discomfort paled in comparison to the pride and joy she felt. 

She put a hand on each side of his face, turning him gently to face her. “You know that you are a son to me?”

“And you are a mother.”

“We are a family.” 

“Are we making Chakotay proud?” Icheb’s voice cracked slightly. 

“Yes we are,” a hoarse whisper was all Seven could manage. “Yes, we are.”

A peaceful silence accompanied them for the duration of the flight. When they had landed, Jay appeared downstairs. Dressed in an all-black combat outfit, Seven admitted that she did look pretty good. Jay smiled at both of them and patted Icheb on the shoulder. 

“J’ashar is topside with you. Remember, we’re here for peace. Keep your weapons set to stun and don’t harm anyone unless explicitly necessary. You’re only here to make sure that the negotiators are safe.”

“Yes Ma’am!” Icheb stood ramrod straight and saluted. He then turned to Seven and without a shred of emotion said, “Love you.”

It took her a few seconds to gather herself. 

“I love you too, son.”

He left the room and for a moment, Seven watched him leave. It struck her that the wide-eyed Borg child she had rescued all those years ago had grown into quite a formidable man. Chakotay would indeed be proud of them.

Jay grabbed her hands and brought them to her lips, placing a small on each knuckle. 

“I know you could never love me, Annika. But, I truly wish we could have become more than we were.”

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t. 

“You’re lying but it’s okay,” Jay winked at her. “Maybe I’ve lied too.”

Jay leaned forward and kissed her, holding on for a little longer than normal. “Goodbye, Annika.”

Before Seven could ask what she meant, her world went black.

-x-

The first thing realized while coming to was that she could not feel her implants. Her left arm was dead weight against her and she could not feel her legs. Her brain felt scrambled, and her head had a dull ache so potent that nausea plagued every breath. She felt heavy, unable to move. Breathing was difficult, she could only suck in short breaths, nothing substantial. The implant on her side was hot and with a short burst of energy, she was able to roll off of that side onto her stomach. Sickness built in her belly and eventually championed her as she vomited on the floor of the ship. 

She stayed that way for a while, eventually gathering enough energy to roll away from her mess. Once her breathing had become more regular and some clarity had graced her boggled mind, she was able to get her elbows underneath her. Nausea surged, making her gag on bile. Slowly tucked her knees under her, noticing that her legs were shaking with fatigue. 

How long had she been there?

She crawled forward, her limbs screaming in pain. Once she got to the stairs, she grabbed the railing and pulled herself up bit by bit. What seemed like hours later, she had cleared the landing and was heaving on the cool metal of the small cockpit. Her head fell to the side with a dead “clink” against the cool metal of the ship. It felt nice against her feverish body, but she had more things to do. 

With her last bit of strength, she flung open the door and winced as she began to fall out of it. It only took less than a second for her to land but her mid-air suspension felt endless. She hit the dirt below with a sickening thud and immediately heard the crack of her right hand. The pain was intense. Hopefully, her borg technology would resurface soon. Panic responses overloaded the synapses in her brain and soon she was passed out on the dirt. 

What felt like hours later she woke. Her eyes and lungs began to burn and constrict. The air, overwrought with the toxic gas, began to wreak havoc on her esophagus. When her Borg technology was functioning, she wouldn’t have a problem. But now that something had rendered her helpless, her lungs were on fire. Every breath felt like barbs shredding the meat of her lungs. Her eyes were watering with such fierceness that she had been reduced to sobbing into the dirt. She stood again, her broken hand aching something fierce.

She spotted a tent in the distance, about a half-mile away. With as much energy as she could muster, Seven trudged the distance. She still couldn’t feel her legs, so she relied on muscle memory and kept her head tilted downwards. Occasionally her feet would catch and she would stumble. But, after a while, she was able to set a dilatory pace. 

About halfway there, Seven felt a tingle in her neck. The tingle descended until it was in her chest. Her breath became labored and her body began to tremble. A cold sweat broke out all over her, causing the dirt swirling around in the air to stick to her skin. She began to heave and for a moment she wondered if she would die on the spot.

_Where was Icheb? Jay?_

The tingle became a sharp pain and immediately Seven vomited violently into the dirt in front of her. A tiny worm-like creature slithered out and disappeared into the dirt. Soon, she felt the familiar feeling of her nanoprobes surging her system. It would take a little bit for her to recover, but her feet began to tingle painfully. 

Soon her lungs began to expel the toxins in the air and her hand began to burn. The feeling in her lower extremities came back and her ocular implant began functioning as well. She began to close the distance between herself and the tent, her blood surging and her heart pounding and she began to run at full speed. As she ran, she could feel the bones in her hand realigning themselves. 

Once she got to the tent, she flanked the back and tried to focus her hearing. Machinery whirred and quick footsteps made Seven curious. She dropped to the ground and peered under the tent. Her face pressed against the hot sand, burning the skin of her cheek. 

The first thing she saw was blood. Lots of it. 

A few people covered in aquamarine scrubs were zipping back and forth, blood splattered all over them. A few beds were organized in a row similar to a medic’s triage line. Had there been casualties? Had she been incapacitated before it had even started? The last thing she remembered was hugging Icheb goodbye. 

“Seven!” a shriek rang out in the tent and before she could even gather her thoughts, she was barreling around the enclosure to the front flaps. The minute she entered the tent, so many things happened that it would take her years to process it.

Immediately she was shrouded in darkness. The only light came from a portable generator in the middle of the room. 

She slid in, laying low in the shadows. A man was on the far bed, moaning and praying. Blood dripped over the sides of his body and spilled onto the concrete floor. The middle beds were pristine, the sheets creased and folded. The whole room smelled of disinfectant and entrails. There were stains all over the cement below her. She counted a total of twelve beds and six medical workers buzzing around. The sound of metal clinking drew her attention to the man on the table. The hand that was raised for help was grabbed by the nurse and inspected. 

“Phalangeal overlay is intact.”

“Remove them all.” a voice called across the room. 

The other nurse nodded and picked up a saw. She turned it on and grabbed the hand hanging over the bed. Seven squinted and realized that the hand raised had a mesh covering similar to her own. She stood to her full height, still in the shadows, and aimed her weapon at the saw in the woman’s hand. Before she could fire, she heard a whimper from the corner. 

“Calling for mommy, eh? I’m sure she’ll be here soon enough. I can’t wait to crack open the skull on _that_ face. Ya know? You’ve got a milf! Where’s your cortical node, Buddy? I can’t see it.”

Seven diverted her attention to the first bed in the middle of the room. On full display was Icheb, bloody and very, very pale. Above him was a doctor holding drill that was descending closer and closer to his scalp. Without thought she fired eight rounds, killing everyone in scrubs except for woman hovering over her son. 

“BJayzl?” the woman asked, her voice muffled by her mask. 

Uninterested in who she was asking about, Seven raised her weapon and shot the woman center mass, point-blank. The woman’s body was thrown from the blast into a tray of medical equipment. 

Icheb’s breaths were coming in small, wet gasps. Seven ran the distance and when she saw what had been done to him, her mind stopped. Blood, his blood, stained his Starfleet uniform. The one he had been so proud to receive. His face was a mess of tissue, blood, and tears. He began to convulse, the movement of his arms and legs knocking all the instruments onto the bloody floor. She scooped him up and held him as tight as if her compression would stop his bleeding. 

“Seven,” he whispered. Blood rose out of his mouth and trickled down his cheeks. The stray droplets landed on her hand, contrasting with her metallic skin. 

“You’ll be okay.” She moved close to his ear and began to whisper how much she loved him over and over again. 

He held her by the arms and shook his head. He would not be okay. Her pulse roared in her ears, deafening everything else going on in the room. Time slowed, everything faded away. Her heart pounded as she gasped desperately for air. The panic filled her through, enveloped her belly, and threatened to take over her whole existence. He moved one hand slowly to the necklace that hung from her neck. His bloody fingers swiped over the small gold cross, leaving it a tarnished bronze color. 

“I’ll stay with you,” Seven was weeping now, her tears hot on her face. They began to drop on the edge of the bed, diluting the blood that had pooled there. How had this happened? 

He shook his head no and it was then that Seven understood that she was leaving this tent without her child. 

“Why?” she fell to her knees. Her hands threaded into her hand and pulled painfully while she keened to the pavement. 

“B-Bjayzl,” Icheb said, blood openly flowing from his mouth. “Jay.”

Suddenly it clicked. 

She had been played. She didn’t know how, or why but, Seven had been played and it had cost her the one person who had loved her from the very start: her son. 

She had to kill her. 

Seven stood with her arms still around her son and laid him back against the bed, never ceasing eye contact. The empty socket where his ocular implant had been viciously removed stared back at her and for another time that day she fought her gag reflex. Her son had been viciously disassembled in a barbaric sense. And his sweet, sweet soul had tried to comfort her. 

“Your father and I loved you so very much. You’ve made us so, so proud. You made Starfleet proud, you made me the luckiest mother in the galaxy. I am so thankful I got to know you.” Seven said as she raised her phaser to his side. 

He nodded at her and she pulled him close. Simultaneously she pulled the trigger and kissed him right where his cortical implant should have been. He went rigid and then relaxed out of her grip. Tears spilled over once more and Seven’s vision blurred. The pain was insurmountable. For years she had decided that Janeway walking out on her was the deepest, fracturing pain that she would ever know. But she would take a lifetime of being abandoned over this. No parent should have to mercy kill their child. Especially a child that had been lead to his demise by his naive, gullible mother. 

She fell to her knees and vomited bile onto the dirty, blood-stained cement. The phaser fell to the ground and bounced under the table. It stared at her, taunting her. She was alone on a planet with no one to miss her. The only people to truly care for her were dead. She would never see Icheb’s sweet face again.

_His tiny smile while they played Kadis-Kot._

_The giggle he always let loose when she tickled him._

_His hand searching for hers when she’d plucked him from the Borg ship._

_His anger at her heavy-handed attempt at parenting._

_His beam when Janeway had written his letter._

_His speech when he had graduated._

_His wide-eyed wonder at their stories of traveling the galaxy._

_His smirk when he told her that she would find love when she stopped looking._

_His appreciation for any small thing._

_The way he called her “Mother”._

She would never experience any of those things again. Instead, she would always see the corpse of her son, missing body parts and bleeding into the table. She was damaged by something her nanoprobes could not fix. 

The phaser still stared at her and on impulse, she grabbed it and stared at it in wonder. 

She raised the phaser to her head, feeling the hot tip of the weapon sear into her skin. The end was so close, she could taste it. She could hear the roar of a warp engine landing, probably someone else sent to kill her. To fuck her and take everything from her. There was nothing and no one left for Seven of Nine. No one would miss the stoic ex-Borg that pined over unattainable love and let her entire family be killed. Who would tell Kathryn that the woman she’d left behind in her bed had died? Would she mourn the loss of a student who had adapted the best she could? Or would she cry over a lost lover?

Could she leave behind an Earth that still had Kathryn Janeway? 

Was there anyone left on Earth to love her? She pressed the phaser into her temple harder and smiled as the hum of the weapon charging rang in her ear. Footsteps fell around her, a resounding rumble in her brain. The words they spoke blended into each other, a myriad of screaming. It was too late anyway. The amount of pain she felt was inhumane. A hand grasped her by the hair and began to drag her away from the table. They tried to wrestle the phaser out of her grip. 

She smiled. 

As she fired, she recalled a conversation she’d had many years ago. 

_Every person on this list died under your command. You accepted their deaths. But I don't believe you'll accept mine._

_That's presumptuous._

_I'm not being egotistical. On the contrary, I'm trying to make a point._

_Which is?_

_All of these crew members came to Voyager with unique personalities. But I've required your constant assistance to develop my individuality._

_And you've come a long way._

_But not far enough. I've disappointed you. You feel your task is incomplete. That's why my death will be difficult for you to accept._

_Is that what you think? That you haven't lived up to my expectations?_

_Clearly, I haven't. But I want you to know... that the failure has been mine, not yours._

_You haven't failed, Seven. You've exceeded my expectations. You've become an individual, an extraordinary individual. If I'm having trouble accepting your condition, it's only because I don't want to lose a friend._

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexuality and attraction are messy. While J/7 is my favorite, I would be remiss if I didn't acknowledge the chemistry between Chakotay and Janeway. This will be sad for a little longer. It won't be dark forever. :)

_But now you've left me and love another_

_You have shattered all of my dreams_

_-2387-_

  
  


Sometimes, when Seven was feeling desolate, she would open the small music box Icheb had made her years ago. The cute pastel box, which still played perfectly, sat on a shelf in her living room. Occasionally, the sight of it made her double over in pain however most times it made her smile. The simple song it played became a lullaby, rocking her to sleep despite her grief. 

It acted as a tether to reality. When the panic set in, or she was reminded of her son, the song inside the box would calm her instantly. It had traveled with her undamaged for many years. When she woke up in her bed on Mars, almost eight months ago, it was the first thing to catch her attention. 

There were no clues left behind, no traces of any visitors. All that remained was a scar on her temple and slight tremor that only surfaced if she went too long without regeneration. To be quite honest, she hadn’t expected to wake up at all. She tried to ask around to see if anyone had any idea how she was rescued from Vergessen and was met with blank stares and tight lips. If anyone knew, they were going to keep quiet. 

After she packed up her meager belongings she took the first flight to Earth. Tom and B’Elanna met her at her front door, two children in tow, to let her in and help her unload her belongings. None of them knew where to start for conversation, so they just made small talk about the traditional Starfleet gossip. There many things to talk about, but all of them required a certain amount of emotional stability that Seven did not have at the time. Eventually, the children needed to be fed. Seven politely requested that she be the one to bottle-feed baby Mehir. 

When his charming blue eyes met hers with curiosity, complicated feelings stirred within her. His flaxen blonde hair but dark complexion would likely ostracize him. She could relate. According to some she was too Borg to be human and too human to be Borg. Even if the concept of “fitting in” was irrelevant, it still stung. On _Voyager_ they had such a mixture of different DNA that no one was exoticized. 

It was cathartic to see a child, so healthy and loved, being held by her. She was _capable_ of nurturing. She desperately needed the validation. Children were not in danger because she chose to walk the Earth The way he looked at her with such awe, struck something deep in her heart. When she smiled at him, he giggled back. It was the first time since Icheb died that she had smiled. She loved this young boy and his older sister very much. 

For too long she saw herself as a catalyst for destruction. However, if children were the epitome of perfection and grace, she would bask in that reaction from the baby. Every time little Mehir smiled his gentle forehead ridges became prominent, which consistently brought her joy. Miral was the age where she wanted to know the answer to everything. So, Seven had spent a lot of their time together teaching her about animals and the scientific names for the plants in the garden. Every time her big brown eyes searched hers for answers, a little piece of her shattered heart was mended. 

Right before everyone had left, they stood in her backyard reminiscing. The children had been sent off to play. Miral, ever the big sister, had been determined to teach Mehir how to walk, even if it was a few months too soon. He was still in a baby carrier, but she insisted on explaining the mechanics of bipedal travel in an overly-simplified way only a child could. 

The adults had gathered around a small plot of upturned soil. She had no body to bury - Bjayzl had taken that too. 

They took turns speaking about Icheb and grief. Her opinions about death had changed since she’d talked to B’Elanna about it many years ago after being confronted with her mortality. Before, she had taken a cool, detached stance on the subject. People died, that was simply nature. Now, she still believed it to be unavoidable but there was a feeling of mutual respect she held with death. As she grew into her humanity, so did her beliefs. It was a gut-wrenching feeling to know that the corpse of her son had been sold to the highest bidder. Or, that’s what she had been led to believe. 

Her son had been murdered despicably by a woman she had let into her bed. There was no coming back from that. Icheb was Seven’s hero, and she hoped that he knew that. Logistically she knew that is was her emotions scrambling to alleviate some of the guilt she had accrued. For just this moment, she was willing to fall victim to human fantasies of afterlives.

Everyone cried and Tom had managed to sneak a bottle of mead from his personal stash. B’Elanna had even bellowed at the sky - something that caught Seven off guard. She had felt incredibly privileged to have that caliber of respect paid towards her son. Eventually, she had taken Chakotay’s communicator and slid it into the drawer of the box and buried it. It felt right to reunite her boys. They could travel together. She wanted nothing more than to leave her house and never look back. Having the box buried in her yard kept her attached to the property. So, no matter how far she traveled - physically or mentally - she would always be able to find her way back. 

Tom insisted on “pouring one out” for the men. Seven did not quite understand the reasoning but she was not going to tell someone how to grieve. If dumping alcohol on dirt gave him closure, then it was okay with her. It certainly had been better than pointing a phase at his head. 

In a thinly-veiled question about her mental well-being, B’Elanna offered their spare bedroom to her. What her friend was truly asking was if Seven planned on taking care of herself once they left. However, she no longer cared for her safety. She had no purpose, nothing to do. Her sense of wellbeing had been buried in her backyard.

It must have been a hot topic of conversation because soon Harry had sent her a message, followed immediately by Samantha Wildman, both offering her a place. It meant a lot that her former crewmates would care enough to touch base. The idea of sympathetic looks and micromanagement did not interest her one bit. 

She had spent the next two days sobbing on her couch while staring at the tiny space on her shelf where the box had been. Right above it hung the boxing gloves that Chakotay had insisted she reunite. They stared at her, challenging her. Grief was tricky. Sometimes it came about in a bout of crying. Sometimes, it was a deep impulse to apologize in person to someone in San Francisco. 

So, she packed a small bag of belongings, deposited her keys in the flower pot outside the house, and walked to the closest transporter twenty-five miles away. 

The first few days on the road had been rough. There had been lots of wailing, many ill-thrown punches towards trees, and a bottle of bourbon. Eventually, she’d walked so far that she needed to regenerate. She’d lasted eight days and made it a total of twenty-three miles. 

_Unacceptable_. 

Her boots were becoming uncomfortable and her limbs had begun to slow. Her olive shirt was starting to chafe against her shoulders and neck while the skin on the back of her neck was dry and sunburnt. 

The nearest respite was a diner that looked like it had been there since the dawn of time. The parking lot was full, which impressed her. As she got closer she saw that the paint on the building was peeling, showing the bricks that were underneath. Neon signs hung in the window, which gave the whole place a mid-twentieth century feel. Many of the decals on the windows boasted about their menu. So, Seven decided to rest there. 

She didn’t know what she was expecting, but the brightly lit bar with a checkerboard tiled floor wasn’t it. Booths in the shape of Earth’s old vehicles lined the walls, and the wait staffed wore rollerskates instead of shoes. 

It was a little overwhelming but interesting nonetheless. Seven waited patiently next to the sign that indicated someone would be with her soon. As she waited, she took in the environment. Records were hung on the walls, some from as far back as the 1950s. At this point, this restaurant could be considered a museum. The aesthetic was pleasing to her. This is what Janeway would have called “charming”. 

“Thanks for stopping in. Just one?” A bright-eyed woman with hair so red, Seven wondered if it was fake, asked jovially. 

Seven nodded and followed the server to a booth. Once she sat down, she took the proffered menu and glanced over it. Many of the dishes served seemed fried and filled with unnecessary additions. The back of the menu said they did serve alcohol, although there was no bourbon. 

“Ready to go?” the same server asked her.

Seven was too exhausted to try and comprehend the menu. “What is something you suggest?” 

“Well,” the woman leaned over to read the menu in Seven’s hand. “I really like french fries. Have you ever had those?”

“I have once, I believe. That sounds acceptable.” 

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please. Black.”

The server’s eyes widened, a surprised look on her face. “You’re brave, I’d have heartburn something fierce.”

Seven chuckled under her breath. She imagined all the coffee Janeway had replicated on Voyager and wondered if she’d dealt with such a thing. 

“Anything else?” The server asked as she set down a coffee and a small glass of water. The coffee mug was a strange shade of aquamarine while the cup sported some slog 

“I’ll be fine, thank you. I’ve been traveling for quite a while. Are there rest areas near here?”

Seven asked, cupping the mug with both hands. 

“There’s a place down the road, but it’s kind of beat up. Most people use it hourly if you catch my drift.” The waitress looked uncomfortable.

Seven nodded. “Of course. I will be careful. I appreciate the information.”

The waitress smiled and walked away. Once she was behind the counter, Seven began to drink the coffee in front of her. It was awful, but it reminded her of simpler times when she wasn’t on the run all the time. She would give anything to back on Cargo Bay 2, even if it meant being surrounded by longing and unrequited love. She could have easily survived on playful banter and lingering touches. If the Admiral from the future had told her that she would be subjected to the emotional pain she’d endured, she would have chosen death and a loveless marriage. 

What she wouldn’t give for one last arm squeeze from her Captain. 

-x-

Once she checked into the shoddy hotel and reserved it for twenty-four full hours, she collapsed on the bed in exhaustion. Her first order of business was to find a safe place to regenerate. Generally, she preferred to be laying down for consistency’s sake, however, the bed was directly in front of the window. She was able to set herself up on a chair in the corner of the room. Sitting was illogical but she did not have the time to be peculiar. If she was spotted, this whole mission would be for naught. 

Soon the feeling of her body entering her trance enveloped her and she was finally able to rest. 

When she woke she felt insurmountably better. She disconnected and stood up, hissing at how sore her legs were from all the walking. She also felt filthy. 

She still had a few hours left in this room, so she decided to shower. A glance in the bathroom led her to believe that it hadn’t been updated in years. It would get the job done, though. 

After her shower, she attempted to towel dry her hair. Although the towels themselves seemed dirtier than she had been. She gathered her bag and shoved her dirty clothes into it. Clad in clean clothes for the first time in a while, Seven was thankful for the spare outfit she’d had the forethought to bring

She nodded to the front desk woman and stopped halfway out the door. “Where is the town transport?”

“About a mile west, you’ll see it. There are quite a few unique shops down there, you can’t miss it.”

Seven nodded and went off of her way. 

-x-

Seven stepped on the transport pad with a few other people. They all gossiped about Romulus and it’s unfortunate demise. Hopefully, the Fenris Rangers had been able to help before its demise. The work was enticing, but the idea of running with the band of vigilantes was too close to her heart. Her motivation and drive to be a force of good had been shaken. Besides, she had a new mission: revenge. 

Head down, shoulders drawn, she tried her best to blend in. The bag at her side was heavy but not overwhelmingly so. A few people were heading to San Francisco, hopefully far away from where she was going. As she felt her body being dissolved, she noticed that the sunset was beautiful and briefly missed the view from her home. 

-x-

The grass under her was still damp from the rain that had fallen earlier in the day. She grimaced and searched her bag for the soiled shirt she had tossed in there hours prior. 

She placed it on the cold ground and settled back in. She leaned against the cement slab, the rough texture scraping slightly against the starburst on her cheek. Her long legs, still drowning in oversized camouflage cargo pants, were spread out in front of her, her boot leaning against the bag she’d discarded. 

She stayed that way, just watching the stars until she shivered once. 

_Time to warm up._

She uncorked the bottle in the bag next to her and took her first long swig of the cheap liquor. It burned going down, similar to the black coffee earlier. Her empty stomach burbled in protest. 

“I miss you, Bud,” She whispered, borrowing the term of endearment from Tom. “I miss you so damned much.”

Her throat constricted as she fought tears. It hurt so much. She’d been reduced to sobbing in a cemetery all alone with nothing but a bag of clothes and the cheapest bourbon she could find. She hiccuped once, her cheek still up against the gravestone. It made a tiny scraping noise as the cement dragged across an implant. 

“You always challenged me, second-guessed my intentions. I suppose I did the same back to you. Our first few years together were filled with such distrust that it still amazes me that we were able to come together as we did. We loved that boy so much. He knew it too. I just wish I had gotten more time with him. I wish you could have been there too. I know you loved and desired me. To be honest? I loved you too. Just not the way that you wanted me to. But you know what? I could have been happy, I think. I don’t know why I’m telling you this now,” Seven took a watery breath. 

“I know why I’m telling this to you now. Because I’m a coward. I never wanted to admit that I could have chosen you and been happy. I didn’t need love, I just needed to belong somewhere. I could have lived without romance. But, now that I have felt it, I cannot imagine an existence without it. I have been loved, Chakotay. I have been loved and now that it’s gone, I have no one. She loved me, but at what cost?”

Seven took another swig, grimacing at how her stomach reacted to it. She burped once, waiting to see if her body would reject the alcohol. When it didn’t, she slid down the tombstone until she was laying next to it and staring up at the stars. It almost felt like they were stargazing together. 

“I know I was hard to tame at first. I was frightened - all of the time. From the moment I descended from my alcove to the moment I stepped back in, I was scared. Scared of the crew, scared of humanity, scared that the Borg would _snatch_ me back up now that they knew that I was capable of asserting the very characteristics they sought to destroy in me. Scared of the depth of the feelings I was developing at warp six.“

She went to take another drink and giggled when she missed her mouth. It had been a long time since she’d laughed. 

“Of all the times we were too suspicious of one another, all the times we disagreed. You never once told me that loving _her_ was wrong. I think it was because you loved her too. I saw the way she looked at you, Chakotay. There was love there. Not the kind you wanted. I’m sorry it always ended up that way for you. I can’t imagine the pain of watching the two people you love go through what we did. I have enormous respect for you not swooping and picking up the pieces of the shattered relationship we left. If you want to know a secret: I think she could have loved you, if she just let go of her damning sense of moral duty. Why are humans so complicated?” 

“Love is anterior to life, posterior to death, initial of creation, and the exponent of breath,” Seven recited from memory. The phrase made her chest physically ache.

“She spoke that to me, the first time she brought me to the da Vinci program in the Holodeck.” 

“Emily Dickinson, I believe. I was frightened but oh, so enchanted with Captain Kathryn Janeway. Such a formidable woman packed in such a compact form. She knew immediately that she had power over me and not once did she utilize that for her own gain. Many times I exploited her good graces and not once did she make me feel lesser than. Even the day she left me nude and trembling after a night of pedantic, manic intimacy. She still had the compassion to kiss me farewell. I did not understand it then, but now I do. I can still see the expression of pain on her face. The thought of Admiral Janeway coming to saving us, saving me, from utter demise, was the greatest gift of love one can give: life. The Admiral from the future and the Admiral now both simply wanted to love from afar. My safety is paramount. The realization, however, does not mean I agree.”

Seven rolled onto her side and faced the plot of dirt and put a hand on the cold earth. She stroked a thumb back and forth until the tears finally came. It had been too long since she’d cried like this. “I miss her. Even if she never touched me again. I need her, badly. I’ve had to figure out my own life on this planet it’s proving more difficult each day. Icheb and I were so alike that I genuinely forgot that I did not birth him. We carried the same scars, physically and emotionally. Our pain was communal and now no one understands. I was taken from the complacency of the infinite collective and deposited on Earth only to have my human collective reduced to single digits. She is the only person who listened to how I felt. To everyone, I am simply a cold-hearted automaton. To her, I was a woman who needed experiences and the safety to explore my humanity.”

Sobs wracked her body as she curled into the fetal position. Icheb, her sweet boy had suffered a whole life of pain and abandonment. Did their few years together make any of it okay? Where had he gone? Was his consciousness still with the Borg? Were he and Chakotay somewhere together, talking about science and genetics?

“You’ll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Seven sang quietly to the starry night. It was the only tune she knew. If only the Doctor could see her now. When she had sung the song at first, he had chastised her for the dispassionate rendition. Well, she’d learned just about as much as she could regarding emotion. Was it good enough now? Was the passion there?

_She cried for Janeway._

_She cried for Icheb._

_She cried for Chakotay._

_She cried for Annika._

Eventually, the tears stopped and she rose to her feet. She grabbed the shirt and used it to wipe away the dirt that had stuck to her cheek. She took a few tentative steps, gauging just how drunk she was and decided that she should wait a little bit before attempting anything. She sat back down, cursing the cold dew that permeated the layers she wore but too drunk to move. She laid against the tombstone once again and closed her eyes. There was so much pain in her heart, that she almost wished one of the guards would see her and take her out. 

She felt her eyelids become heavy and eventually succumbed to her inebriated exhaustion. Unwilling to relinquish control, she hovered between sleep and stupor. After about thirty minutes of silent misery, warm hands wrapped around her body and rose her to a standing position. 

“Let me die, leave me to die,” Seven murmured, trying sleepily to bat the arms away. “I can’t bear it anymore.”

The grip around her tightened. “The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms,” a hoarse voice whispered. “Seven.”

She felt the feelings of being transported and grunted as her body met concrete. Her brain, still sluggish, didn’t recognize that she was home. When she finally succumbed to sleep, she wondered why she was staring at her porch swing back in New Mexico. The sun had begun to rise and for a moment, she was placated. She had made her peace with Chakotay. Hopefully, he would pass the word onto her son. 

She missed the view from her home. 


	11. Chapter 11

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_

_Please don't take my sunshine away_

  
-2388-

Footsteps on her rooftop were the first thing to get her attention. They tiptoed to the east side of the home and Seven opened her eyes to see moonlight pouring into her bedroom. The clock on her table indicated that it was almost dawn. She had to admit, they were pretty efficient. Had she been sleeping, it definitely would have been an ambush. But, Seven did not sleep - not anymore. Slumber was a luxury she no longer had. 

For months on end, Bjayzl had found ways to make her life hell. Seven noticed her lackeys everywhere she went. In the market, out in the country, and even in the mountains. To give the murderous vixen any attention would be like tendering her resignation. Seven refused to acknowledge them and refused to be provoked into public displays of violence.

She would not hide; her freedom had already been stolen by the woman who robbed her of happiness. Two years later Icheb’s death was still was so tender. Everything reminded her of his sweet demeanor and passion for science. It felt as if she would be mourning him forever. 

A rustle in the bushes below caught her attention. For a few seconds, she froze and tried to gather herself. A creak behind her was accompanied by shuffling on the carpet outside of her room. She shifted silently to lay on her side and attempted to simulate deep, restful breathing to keep up the facade. For a moment, she was completely still. She ran through the basics of her tactical training and inched her hand towards the weapon that was buried under her pillow.

A masculine figure walked into the bedroom, the shadow on the wall amplifying his size. The bed dipped gently behind her and she froze. Her fingers and toes went numb with panic and her heart began to pound in her ears. A hand stroked her hair and eventually made its way down her body. The hand touched the implant in the small of her back and before it could travel further down, Seven reached her hand back and snapped his wrist. 

The man behind her grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head backward. The base of her neck cracked against his knee and she saw spots. He pressed a weapon into her back and Seven heard it begin to charge. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to completely incapacitate him so she took a calculated risk. 

Laying on her side put her a tactical disadvantage. So, she threw herself upwards and was successful when she felt the man’s nose break under her body’s force. It also put her directly into his grasp, which he used to his advantage. He pulled on her hair again and forced her to look at him. He let go of her hair with so much force that her neck popped when it hit the bed below. Within a second, he had his phaser drawn and cracked it against the side of her head. 

White, hot pain shot through her head, sending shockwaves through her system. She made the best of the awkward angle and threw her entire body weight forward off of the bed. She was instantly freed and fell to the floor on all fours. Seven groaned and tried her best to stand up without fainting. Little sprinkles of lights danced in front of her eyes as she gulped down air. 

She fell to her knees once again on the floor and searched desperately for her phaser. Once she felt the familiar cold weapon under her fingers, she gathered her bearings and jumped up with a small whimper of pain. Two men raised their weapons to fire but she was too quick for them. Before they could even open their mouths, Seven fired at them. They fell to the carpeted floor and bounced a little, blood splattering onto her wall. Immediately, a third man popped up with a very crooked looking wrist. 

“Annika Hansen, how nice it is to meet you,” the man taunted her. He moved back and forth with impressive dexterity. Her body was still reeling from the injury she’d been given while sleeping. He raised his mangled wrist to her and yelled once more. “You’ll pay for this, bitch!”

She pitched to the side, her legs groaning in protest. The man ran to her bedroom door, obviously inviting her to fight. The tendons and muscles in her legs screamed in pain, causing her knees to buckle. She hit the ground, hard. The floor burned her kneecaps and a static pain erupted in her hip. He disappeared from her sight and for a moment, everything stilled. She stopped her breathing and listened to the sound of everything around her once more. 

The wind in the trees, the crack of the branches against each other. Birds were flying overhead and she could hear the sound of animals roaming the woods behind her. The sound of shoes making noises on her stairs tipped her off. Men were always so impatient. Driven by nothing other than ego. In any other circumstance she would wait him out, but she was getting weaker as time went on. 

“You know, for someone who’s half junkyard scrap, you sure move pretty quick. I’m sure Bjayzl used that to her advantage if you know what I mean. Do you agree, _Annika_?” The voice got closer until she estimated that he was just outside of her bedroom door. 

“Annika is dead,” Seven turned around and shot through the wall, striking the man directly in the chest. “She ceased to exist when her son died in her arms.”

The man crumpled into a pile, his head landing on the floor in the doorway. Seven fell into a heap and tried her best to stave off panic. Not only had her bed been ruined, but her temple also had a wound that was now openly weeping. She needed medical help. But, unfortunately, that was not an option. Very few were allowed to tend to her. Adrenaline coursed through her, the hairs on her neck stood up as she took in the scene around her. To the east, a pink band had started to rise. The sun would be up soon, which meant she needed to find somewhere to stash the bodies. As much as she had dealt with assassins, she usually encountered them outside. 

After a couple of minutes, Seven rose from her position and cried out when her right knee screamed in pain. She kicked her leg a few times and heard a satisfying “pop!” on the last one. She tested the limb and found that she could bear weight on it. At least something was working out in her favor. She inspected the men in her bedroom and inspected their pockets for any useful information. 

Nothing. 

It was all getting to be too much. 

She hobbled around her bedroom, shoving all of her important belongings into her bag. She grabbed some medical supplies out of her bathroom and tended to the cut on her head. It has stopped bleeding and faded to an annoying throb. Now that she knew that the men were out for blood and not a simple scare, Seven knew she needed to take things more seriously. 

She thought about calling Tom to see if he had any spare ships docked at their house. B’Elanna was forever complaining about how quickly their garage had filled up once he’d come back from his last venture into space. The last thing she needed was to involve her friends in her predicament. Was it worth the constant paranoia? This was her issue to deal with. 

She had no family, her friends were miles away - most of them with their own families. So, she was faced with a depressing ultimatum: be captured by Bjayzl now and face an excruciating, torturous death. Or, continue to fight and get caught up with Starfleet and face a slow death being experimented on and disassembled. Neither was appealing. Both of them ended with pain and suffering.

She dug her tablet out of her bag and sent off a message to B'Elanna. If anything, maybe she could see a familiar face. With a limp and a heavy lean on the banister, Seven made her way down her stairs and into the kitchen.

Almost immediately her device chirped and she opened it only to see her friend’s face. She unlocked it and accepted the transmission. She took a seat on a barstool and cast a glance at the dead assassins on her stairs.

“Seven! Where the _hell_ have you been? No one’s heard from you!”

“I’ve been having a rough time.” she shrugged. “Bjayzl sent men after me. It’s exhausting.”

“Hasn’t she been doing that for a year, Borg?” 

Seven could tell her friend was worried by the use of her old nickname. It was comforting to know that she still had her friend to lean on. 

“I also haven’t slept more than three hours in the last twelve days.”

“Have you regenerated?”

Seven shook her head. “No. I’m out cold when I do that. I’m too vulnerable. I would rather be woken up.”

“That makes sense. If it helps, Mehir has decided that he is going to wake up with Tom every morning. So, I’ve been lucky to grab a few hours a night. Kids are exhausting.” B’Elanna blew a stray chunk of hair out of her face. “You look like shit, dude.”

“I’m tired,” Seven admitted. “All this running isn’t working. I haven’t slept without interruption in almost a year and I’m sick of regenerating for an hour here and there.”

“Do you need supplies? I can get Tom to drop some near you? If you want, we can try and wean you off the regenerator? It might not work but it could make your life easier.”

Seven raised a hand in thanks, “I appreciate it. I think I just need to stop. But if I stop, I die. Painfully. What do I do?”

“Well,” B’Elanna looked up and over the screen for just a moment. When she looked back down, she had a smile on her face. “We were looking for a nanny recently. I have to go back to work soon. We live on the opposite side of you, almost in Canada. You wouldn’t be anywhere near California and since we live on our property, no one will notice if you come and go.”

“I couldn’t put you at risk like that. What If BJayzl found me there? I know you’re not Borg but I’m sure you would be in danger.”

“Tom says that he’s installed a dampener to hide any signals that your body may emit. You’d be untraceable. Don’t decide just yet though. I just want you to know that you have a backup. Anyways, tell me all about this drunken debacle at the cemetery?”

“Wait, who told you about that?” Seven asked wide-eyed.

“I have my sources.” 

“Tell me!” 

“No! But I will say I was honored when they called me to verify your location like I have a GPS on you. I would have made Tom carry you and boy I would have enjoyed watching him try and get you through your door without banging your head on the frame,” B’Elanna’s smile lost its luster. “You’re worrying us, Seven. This isn’t like you. You’re being erratic, just like all the times you yelled at us about being human.”

“I know that. I have acted _inefficiently._ It is something that I am working on. I do not like being out of control and bothersome. It will not happen again.”

“Oh hush, we’ve all had our moments. I once got so drunk at the Academy that I not only failed to show up for my classes, I also forgot to tell my then-boyfriend to leave. So I got caught bare-assed with my boyfriend by my Professor.”

“That sounds very unpleasant,” Seven admitted. 

“It was at the time, now it’s a fun story to tell around the fire.”

“I miss you.”

B’Elanna’s smile faded at the admission. “You do? We didn’t always have the best of relationships. I know I gave you some shitty love advice. I feel partially responsible for what happened to Icheb.”

“You didn’t though. The advice was sound.” Seven admitted. “That’s the fucked up part. The sex was amazing, and I really let my guard down over it. I still carry a lot of shame about that. The idea of being intimate with anyone makes me panic. I believe I was not cut out for relationships. Being alone, as dreadful as it has been, is the safest thing for me.” 

“You don’t exactly have the best track record either,” B’Elanna offered, her face twisting into a devious snarl. “Do you still have that one dream where the Captain does the-”

“B’Elanna Torres! I told you that years ago!” Seven exclaimed as she blushed. “I cannot _believe_ you remembered that!”

“Well, even though I don’t have an eidetic memory like yours, I still do remember when my friend tells me all about the lascivious things her Captain does in her dreams.” B’Elanna raised an eyebrow at Seven. 

“Thank you for the laugh. You have no idea how badly I needed it,” Seven admitted. “Also, it’s a little less tender to think of her now. I’m beginning to understand what she meant when she told me that I would be in danger with her.”

“Hey, in all seriousness. Have you ever been intimate with someone and felt safe? Does it always end in heartache? Sex is fun but sex with someone you feel safe with is incredibly important too.”

She pondered her wording for a moment. “When the Captain and I eventually caved to our desires, it was the single best experience of my life. I felt safe, laying in that twin bed with her. Our skin smelled like sweat and our breath like sour bourbon. It was if all the problems I had ever had, would be okay because her head was on my shoulder and our legs were intertwined. You know she laid there with me and told me about every single time she realized she was in love with me?”

“She did?”

“Yes. It was overwhelming for me. I was still learning what it was like to be human. I had no idea how to process all that information. The idea that someone could love me, but refuse to be with me seemed unnecessary.”

“That’s actually kind of romantic,” B’Elanna admitted. “You think she loves you still?”

“I know she does,” Seven admitted, her eyes getting misty. “But even if she showed up at my doorsteps right this minute, I’m not sure what I would do. I’m in danger - real danger. I don’t want any of my baggage weighing on her career.”

“Leaving you like that was cold of her though. Ever for a Starfleet Captain. That was low.”

“It was. But, I think deep down I knew she wasn’t going to stay. It was an ill-fated encounter. If there’s something she detests, it’s poor decisions.”

“Like her ‘poor decisions’ didn’t leave us stranded in the black lagoon of space for years!”

“You’re correct. But, I could be a mistake that could get us both killed.”

“You’re not a mistake, Seven. Don’t you ever think that.” B’Elanna’s voice shook. “Never, ever, say you are a mistake. Okay? You’ve spent too many years being told who to be and how to act. I can’t sit back and let you make excuses for someone leading you on like that.”

Seven was stunned by the uncharacteristic admittance by her Klingon friend. Being vulnerable was not something she associated with B’Elanna. For years there had been animosity between the two women. But, now as they both aged and were no longer in such close quarters, a beautiful friendship had started to bloom. 

They were quiet for a few moments. 

“So, how about that offer? I can have Tom wherever you’re at before tomorrow night.”

“That would require me to know where I am.”

“You don’t?”

“A joke.” Seven winked. “I’m in my kitchen. Look at these idiots she sent.”

She flipped the camera and showed her friend the pile of bodies by her bedroom door.

“Of course you have a pile of men. I missed you. I can’t wait to hug you, you big beautiful Borg.” 

Seven’s heart fluttered at the gentle ribbing. “I miss you too. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

B’Elanna nodded and cut the channel. 

For what seemed to be the hundredth time, Seven began to pack her things in a duffel bag. This time, she knew that she was heading someplace safe. 


	12. Chapter 12

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_

_You make me happy when skies are gray_

_-2389-_

“Seven, Seven look at me!”

Seven turned around to look at Miral, who was currently swinging and looking positively elated. Streamers were tied to her pigtails, streaking back and forth as she swung. The young girl beamed and pumped her legs back and forth furiously. In front of her parents, Miral talked about the boys in her class and compared different nail polish colors. But, when it was just her and Seven, she seemed to relax. The _cool_ exterior would fade and a bubbly child would emerge. Her little brother on the other hand, had taken his time getting to know his parent’s friend. He was apprehensive and had yet to say much of anything to her. 

Seven drug her fingers through the hot sand around her in the play box, making swirls and shapes and swiping it away. The sun warmed her bare shoulders and the back of her neck. Tiny shovels and shells were scatted around her feet. It reminded her of the many times they’d taken shore leave on Voyager. Beaches always invoked a sense of calmness in her, so the tiny sandbox had become her summer perch. The wooden corner of the box was digging into her bare legs so she shifted into a better position. She ducked as one of Miral’s shoes whizzed by her head, barely missing her. Giggles erupted from all three of them, although Seven knew if she indulged them with too much juvenile behavior, they would take it too far. 

It hurt sometimes, to see Tom and B’Elanna love their vivacious children. But after a few months of living with the family, it hurt a little less. In the beginning, she would turn her head when either one of the adults was affectionate to any of the kids. Somewhere along the way, however, she began to join in on the love. Miral adored her and copied almost every mannerism she had. Many times Seven had caught the pre-teen trying to walk and talk like her. When Naomi had done it, it had felt wrong - like she was not a suitable role model for the young Ktarian. But, as she learned more about humanity and was able to settle, she realized she too was guilty of imitating the people she admired. 

Mehir, still in the destructive baby Klingon phase, was less interested in her and more interested in plowing through everything in sight. Since Seven had planned to stay for a little while to gather her bearings, she had offered to watch the children while their parents worked. Miral had been at school for most of the time but was currently on a break. Days were for chores and babysitting, nights were for her. Sometimes she ran, sometimes she indulged in the caramel cheesecake that B’Elanna insisted on replenishing at an alarming rate. 

It felt nice - being stationary. For too long she had been running; whether it was from the Borg, Janeway, or Bjayzl. Too many of her years had been lost to the chase and even though she was safe where she was, the lingering feeling of being targeted never completely dissipated. It was almost second nature to dismiss her feelings and place everyone else’s needs ahead of her own. 

Miral called for her again, and Seven stood to help her out. With careful movements, she began to push the small girl. Every time her hands met Miral’s warm back, her heart jumped. She’d had this experience stolen from her. She would never be able to hug her child close, smell the distinct “baby smell” that B’Elanna had raved about. Of course, her sense of smell was more sensitive than humans. But, she assumed that the smell was more of a psychological reaction to a parental bond than anything else. She would never raise a child from infancy, never share that bond. 

The sun was beating down on them but it was not humid. It was, all things considered, a beautiful day. Perhaps she would assemble an outdoor lunch for the kids. Mehir was at the age where he ate just about anything placed in front of him while Miral was overly particular about what color and texture her food was. Today it was blue foods only, or so she had been informed. 

“Seven! I want to push you!” Miral dug her one remaining shoe in the sand below her and skidded to a stop. Seven bit back a retort about soiling the new shoes and instead reached to remove it. When she took a moment to reunite the pair and set them aside, the impatient Klingon child turned around and put her hands on her hips. If her parentage was ever in question, this eradicated all doubt. From the hip cocked to the left and the foot-tapping in sync, she was a perfect replication of her mother. She was quiet most of the time, but when she wanted something everyone was made aware of it.

This morning she had refused to leave her bedroom until she was allowed to wear matching denim shorts with Seven. So, the ex-Borg had grabbed some shears and cut some of the play jeans B’Elanna had separated in her drawers. Once she had fashioned shorts that were close enough to her own to please Miral, she was then instructed to replicate a plain white t-shirt so they could play outside together. At first, it seemed to be a daunting process, but Miral had been so elated by their matching outfits, that Seven forgot all of her qualms. 

“Push! Push!” Mehir waddled over from his pile of destruction. The small boy, a spitting image of Tom, with the addition of Klingon forehead ridges, was still struggling with syntax. He made up for it with a physical presence. It hadn’t taken Seven long to realize that while he didn’t speak much, his nonverbal communication was very effective. He raised his tiny, filthy hands in the air and began to wave them around. 

Noticing that the children were giving her exasperated looks, she conceded. She grabbed the chains and sat gingerly in the very small seat. The hot plastic burned the back of her thighs, but the sounds of delight coming from the kids eased the discomfort. She felt two tiny pairs of hands push on her back. She looked behind herself and smiled. With her foot, she nudged the ground gently so she moved forwards a tiny bit. The hands disappeared and suddenly both children ran in front of her. They looked at each other and back at Seven. Before she could ask them what their intentions were, they charged at her. 

Miral climbed on her right thigh and Mehir tried his best to scale her left. Seven put a hand under him and gave him just a little boost. He settled on her lap and wove his legs in with his sisters. They both held onto her waist and looked up to her with big, loving eyes. 

“Go, go!” Miral chanted in her ear rather loudly. Mehir just decided to bounce slightly in her lap but the message was clear. His blonde curls sparkled in the sun and Seven thought that he looked like a dandelion. 

Seven wrapped her arms around the swing and the children, pressing them against her slightly. She pushed a little more with her foot, taking the trio a few inches off the ground. After a few tentative back-and-forths, Seven pushed a little harder. 

It was then, three feet in the air with two giggling children in her lap with the sun beaming on her face, she realized that she was enjoying herself. She could live like this. She was safe.

This could be her life and it would be okay. 

-x-

Seven looked up from her book when B’Elanna came in looking rather run down. She closed the book and set it on the table next to her. Seven stood and walked to her friend, taking some of the bags out of her hands. She shot the smalled woman a look, knowing that her friend was exhausted. 

“Thanks for the help,” B’Elanna nodded thankfully. “I forgot to grab some of the supplies for Miral’s birthday party and as soon as I got to the store, Tom told me he’d be at work until tomorrow morning!”

“That’s a rather long workday,” Seven replied. “The kids went down fine.”

“He volunteered to assist one of his buddies in a show. Performance flying. What a show-off!” B’Elanna huffed as she set down the rest of her belongings. “How were they?”

“We had a lot of fun. Miral has taken a liking to the color blue so for lunch we had blueberries and some sort of blue mushroom. It was...palatable. Mehir didn’t seem to mind, although I’m sure you could put a plate of anything in front of him and it would disappear.”

“You’re nicer than I am. I usually just replicate pizza and dye it blue.”

“I have little else to do. It is fun to teach them about new things. I took a holo-image for you. I know it pains you to be away.” Seven helped load some of the groceries into the pantry. “I did have to cut into a pair of Miral’s jeans, but that was the only casualty.”

“Mehir destroy anything today?”

Seven chuckled at the common question. “Fortunately, no. I have been testing out a new isoprene formula that we could use to make a playset for him. It could be interlocking so he could take it apart and put it back together. It would last longer and greatly decrease the splinters in your yard.” Seven finished with a grimace. 

“They got ya, huh?”

“Only one. It came out quickly. How strange that a sliver so small could cause so much pain.”

“The same could be said for Mehir himself.”

They chuckled at that one. Seven took the grocery bag out of B’Elanna’s hands. “Go run yourself a bath, you look awful. Let me do this. I owe it to you. 

“C’mon, let’s chat while I soak,” B’Elanna sighed.

She motioned for Seven to follow her so she quickly put the supplies away and took her usual seat on the bench facing away from the bathtub. Seven heard the water start and her friend audibly moan behind her.

After a few minutes of quiet, B’Elanna restarted their conversation. “You know, you aren’t imposing. Actually, it’s been kind of nice to have someone familiar here. I knew when we moved that we would face some resistance. Klingons still aren’t as widely accepted as other species are. The kids don’t see it yet and I hope they never do. You get it though, unfortunately.”

Seven nodded sadly. “I do.”

“How’d ya do it, Seven? How do you keep your head high while others spit at your feet?”

Seven turned to speak to her friend. B’Elanna’s wide-eyed look broke Seven’s heart. It made the Klingon seem so small, so vulnerable. The air conditioner kicked on, filling the room with a gentle hum. Seven took a moment to choose her words wisely. 

“When I was on Voyager, I was impervious to it. Other’s opinions of me did not matter. The same sentiment applied to the objectification of my body,” She laughed distantly. “I knew everyone was looking at me like I was trying to intentionally be provocative. In all reality, the suit was holding me together. No one asked about it though. No one wondered _why_ I wore it. The people who looked past it: you, the Captain, and various others, were the ones who genuinely paid attention to me. You didn’t ask my opinions, just to _leer_ at me.”

“You obviously didn’t see the way Janeway watched you leave,” B’Elanna snorted, sending the bubbles in her bath flying. “She had her fair share of leering.”

“Oh, I did. I just knew that my physical presence came second. She loved me for my brain. It wasn’t for my body. Also, you must have missed how I watched her leave as well.” Seven winked.

“Oh Kahless, I surely did not! You have no idea how many times the bridge caught you staring. Admit it, Borg, you’re a sucker for a Starfleet uniform too!” B’Elanna laughed when Seven began to blush. She continued, despite the blood pooling in Seven’s ears. 

“I do get it, though. I just don’t know how you managed to keep calm with all the remarks everyone made.”

“It was a combination of a few things,” Seven admitted. “Part of it was that I didn’t know the appropriate response. I would have asked the Doctor or the Captain, but I did not want anyone to be punished for being curious. Most of it stemmed from a lot of guilt. I did not know what the feeling was until much later. But, those voices of disdain? The ones that made snide comments and rude gestures in the mess hall? They became my internal monologue. I let them define my humanity. It’s why I spent so long trying to please everyone. Not my greatest moment.”

“What about now, though? You must have gotten some pushback in California and New Mexico.”

“I-I remember that there are people who have seen me, _loved me._ I know there are people here who would not flinch if I raised my Borg hand to them. The same people who have seen me bare and still chose to touch me. Some people look past the exterior, and bond with what’s beneath. Does that make sense? I am still not very good at describing my emotions.”

A single tear spilled out over B’Elanna’s cheek and landed in the soaps suds. She sniffled and raised a hand out of the water to wipe it away. Seven leaned over into the tub and wrapped her arms around her. Affection was rare between them, so it made the moment that much more special. 

“If it matters, I see you,” Seven said, kissing B’Elanna’s forehead once. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Tom sees you. ‘You’re a little more memorable than you’re giving yourself credit for’ is what you told me. I believe it applies now as well.”

B’Elanna pulled back and looked amused, “I can’t believe that you remember that.”

“Regardless of my eidetic memory, the sentiment was touching. It impacted me greatly. Besides, you remembered my salacious dream about Captain Janeway.”

B’Elanna waved her hand at Seven, indicating she was getting out of her bath. “Well, now that I’ve cried on you. Wanna show me that holoimage?”

Seven nodded and walked into the living room to where she had been cozied up on the couch. She grabbed the holo-imager and flipped it on. She walked back to the bathroom, where B’Elanna was dressed and towel-drying her hair. She showed the photo to B’Elanna, who started to cry again. 

It was Miral and Mehir, sat on the same swing with matching blue mouths. Mehir had the remnants of squished blueberries in his hand, while Miral was smiling as wide as she could. It was a little crooked and not quite in focus, but it was precious nonetheless. When she scrolled to the previous image, Seven blushed. She was unaccustomed to seeing her face. It was her with the two kids on the swing. Most of the image was the kids and the bottom of her face. They all looked overjoyed at the fun they were having. 

“Seven, this one is so cute!” B’Elanna cried out. “They got you to swing? I would have paid good money to see you on that swing!” 

They were both laughing now, the emotional tension broken. As they gulped down air, they heard a stirring in the driveway. They both ran through the house towards the door. When it opened and revealed a similarly disheveled Tom, Seven looked at him quizzically. 

“I’m sorry, B’Elanna. I realized about halfway through my first beer that I didn’t want to be there. I wanted to be home with you. That life isn’t really for me anymore.”

Seven watched as her friend began to tear up again. Immediately the pair were embracing rather intimately. Tom’s hand slid from around his wife’s shoulders and landed on the back of her neck, pressing her in for a kiss. 

Seven grinned and stepped backward with raised hands. She nodded as a salutation to her former crewmates. “I’m going to head out tonight. I won’t be home until morning. I will arrive before the children wake. Have fun you two.” 

As she closed the door, she managed to see her friends in their romantic embrace. Tom had begun to lead the pair in a slow dance across the living room. They were picturesque, bathed in moonlight, and the warm glow from the lamps. 

She wasn’t envious; she was happy for them. They deserved a romantic night alone while the kids were asleep. She shut the door quietly and walked out towards the yard. It was likely that she would just walk down to the plaza and mosey along the boardwalk until the sun rose. It had been quite a while since she’d spent the night gazing at the stars. But, one look at her friends had made her realize that they needed space too. 

As she cut across the backyard the swing caught her eye. The slight breeze pushed it back as forth as if a ghost were on it. Now that the sun had set and the moonlit the yard, it would probably be more comfortable.

She took a deep breath and reveled at the chill in the air. It was a stark difference from the afternoon she’d spent in the sun. For a moment, she simply stood in the yard and embraced the safety she felt. The lingering panic would never completely disappear, but the longer she stayed with her friends, the longer it stayed quiet. Eventually, she walked over to the swingset and gingerly sat down on the swing. She grimaced when her hand met a patch of sticky blueberry goo on the rope handle. She pushed off and began to pump her legs until the stars were a blur and the moon a streak in the sky. 

She pulled her hair out of it’s elastic and shook her waves out. The night air speeding past her face pulled her tears along with it. It had been too long since she’d felt this free. Had it been years? Decades? It occurred to her that she may have never been this free. A little guilt hung in the back of her mind, clinging to the idea that she needed to mourn her son every minute of the day. While the Idea of Icheb hurt her more than she could put into words, it seemed alright to pack it up for the night and just have _fun._

  
  


  
  



	13. Chapter 13

_ In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me _

_ When I awake my poor heart pains _

_ -2390- _

  
  


_ “Stardate today - Janeway beams aboard the Delta Flyer. She reminds Seven of the bond that's grown between them. Seven lowers the force field, and she decides to come home. All I'm asking... is that you trust me again.”  _

_ Janeway looked at her with such desperation that - for a moment - she seemed to leave her rank behind. They were no longer a Captain and her officer. The dynamic had shifted into a despondent pleading of something much more intimate than a simple rank. The somber semblance of Kathryn Janeway slowly reaching out for her, stole the breath right out of her chest. Her pale, gaunt fingers trembled as they reached towards her from beyond the cockpit. Seven felt her chest heave with anxiety and paranoia. The images in her brain moved so quickly they were nearly animated. This woman had betrayed her, or so she had thought.  _

_ But, her scattered unadulterated thoughts surfaced, breaking through the boundary of rampant conspiracy. The woman in front of her was incapable of such disloyalty. This was Kathryn Janeway, the Captain, her raison d’exister. No, this woman would not lead her astray.  _

_ She took the proffered hand and jumped at how cold the lithe fingers were. Slowly, Janeway closed the distance between them and took Seven’s hands in her own. They trembled together, their hands acting as a catalyst for their energy. Finally, Janeway stood directly in front of her, the cinched waist of her uniform level with Seven’s eyes, and unraveled their hands so she could gently place two fingers under her chin and guide Seven’s eyes to meet hers.  _

_ Something, a fleeting feeling with no name, jolted her from head to toe. The slight part of thin lips and the furrow of gentle eyebrows was certainly an image Seven would think about for years to come. This was Kathryn Janeway, the woman from humble means in the quiet midwestern town of Bloomington. This was the woman that Seven was irrevocably and absolutely in love with. _

_ Janeway stood over her, larger than life, and then began to kneel. Whatever feelings that were building in the ex-Borg’s chest flew away like papers in the wind. The sheer romanticism of the gesture banished any lingering doubt that her malfunction had produced. This was Janeway letting her guard fall, the walls were being withdrawn. Not even Omega had produced such undiluted perfection; such pulchritude. She was being gifted something no one else had ever received.  _

_ When Janeway had whispered to Voyager that she had two to beam up, Seven had been sure that her heart would simply beat out of her chest. They sat in the transporter room, her head pressed to the breast of her savior. Janeway stroked her hair and whispered small praises for her bravery. For thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds, Seven experienced a feeling of all-encompassing safety. It was addictive and she decided then that she would chase that safety to the Delta Quadrant and back if she needed to.  _

Seven rolled over, grimacing when her leg began to cramp. Quickly she shook it out, trying to flex her toes as fast as she could. When that did not work, she shot out of bed and rested her hands against the wall. Eventually, the muscle relaxed, leaving a dull ache in its place. Sweat coated her body and she was painfully turned on. The heightened senses that normally came with her arousal had been something she was not expecting. Generally, any feelings of desire were quickly dampened by panic. Even B’Elanna had assured her that it was a normal reaction to the multiple traumas that had been done to her. 

Her dream had been incredibly vivid. Not only had she only recently begun to dream, but she had also been experimenting with her mobile regeneration unit by increasing its power output. So, she’d been supplementing with regular bouts of sleep when she could. It seemed to be working so far; she had only needed an hour of regeneration in the last two weeks. The only caveat was that she had never truly experienced dreams before, which also meant nightmares were new to her. She had been reliving her moments upon Voyager. Which, to some could be a positive thing but for her brought nothing but pain. Apparently, her unconscious self was hell-bent on combing through every interaction she had on the Starship in the Delta Quadrant. 

The main goal was to see if Seven could wean herself off of regeneration completely. According to Tom, with the capturing and release of more and more disconnected drones, the need for alcoves was also increasing. The Federation had been less than enthusiastic about their ideas and had tasked Starfleet with coming up with a means of dealing with the displaced drones. No one knew what to do with the. So, Lieutenant Harry Kim, along with a few others, had been recruited to design something easily modified for different planetary needs while maintaining order. B’Elanna had applied for a spot on the team she had been told in so many words that she was too close to the problem. That information alone had spooked Seven, even though her friend assured her that no one knew she was there. 

On one hand, Seven found it annoying that the Federation only cared about ex-Borg drones after there was an overwhelming amount of them. She feared that they would be tossed into a drone dumping ground on some uninhabitable planet. On the other hand, it made her feel better knowing that she was no longer only mechanical hybrid around. It had been a little bit since she’d been on Earth, but knowing that many planets were going to have regeneration units in hotels and boarding facilities was nice. Whether it was a means of acceptance or simply damage control was irrelevant. She was no longer alone. 

She heard Mehir start to babble in his sleepy child speak from a few rooms over. Since she was already up, Seven decided that she’d get him ready for the day. She limped out of her room and tiptoed down the hall to the little boy’s room. 

He greeted her with a large smile and two hands already raised. She lifted him out of his bed and stuck him on her hip. Even though he was nearly four, she still loved to carry him wherever she could. Next, checked on his older sister, who remained asleep. The rest of the house was quiet, so Seven shuffled quietly to the kitchen. Since Tom and B’Elanna had been so gracious to her, she tried her best to be of use to them. Miral was old enough to get herself ready, but sometimes Seven enjoyed helping her pick out clothes or do her schoolwork. The poor girl had started to enter puberty and the shift in her mood had been almost unbearable. Seven, who had been maturated quickly, found it hard to be around the girl. So, they had all given Miral a wide berth.

Mehir was still incredibly destructive well past his toddler stage. His speech, however, had not progressed the way Miral’s had. While the older child had made fully crafted sentences before even entering school, little Mehir had struggled a bit. Seven knew he was bashful and that his outburst tended to be from the inability to articulate his feelings. During the day, when it was just the two of them, she would challenge him and let him explain things to her in his way. No one gave him a hard time over it, even though Seven could see the frustration from his parents. 

“Seven. We’re gonna make breakfast?” Mehir whispered in her ear. 

She beamed, “Yes we are! What should we make?”

He seemed to think it over, his little face scrunched in deep thought. Finally, he nodded a few times, and solemnly said “Pancakes.”

His tone and very serious face made her laugh quietly. She set him down on his booster seat and gave him some crayons and paper.

“Go ahead and make your mother a birthday card. She’s been so busy at work, I wonder if she even remembers it’s her birthday.”

“I don’t know.” was all Mehir had to say. He looked up to her. “You write it?”

Seven nodded. “Yes. I can write it. You trace over it.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased by their agreement. 

She traced out the letters and turned around to start working on the pancakes. Every once in awhile, she would turn around to make sure Mehir was alright. He stayed in his booster at the table swinging his legs into the underside of the table until they both heard the shuffle of slippers on the floor. B’Elanna walked in, followed by a bleary looking Tom. 

“Morning! Birthday!” Mehir chanted. He held out the paper to his mother, who took it curiously. She looked at Seven and back to her son. Then, she peered around the counter to look at the wall calendar. 

“Oh, it is my birthday. I completely forgot!”

“Birthday! Birthday!” Mehir chanted. 

“Sit down, both of you. Breakfast is almost ready.” Seven instructed. Tom nodded and pulled out a chair for B’Elanna to sit at. 

“You’re a better husband than I am, Seven.” he chuckled. 

“Hardly. I simply woke up early and heard this little man talking up a storm. So, I concluded that we would make you breakfast. Considering it is your birthday and you’ve both been very busy.”

B’Elanna sighed. “It  _ has _ been kinda rough. I love the card,  _ puqloD.  _ Did you make it all by yourself?”

Mehir looked at Seven, who just winked at the boy and shrugged innocently. “Yeah!” he cried, making the adults laugh. 

Seven turned around with a large stack of pancakes. Tom stood and grabbed the rest of the breakfast items. Together they portioned out enough for everyone and got everything situated. It seemed blissful, familiar. 

As soon as the smell wafted throughout the house, Miral appeared looking sleepy and disheveled. Her hair stuck up on one side and her pajamas looked to be a little too short. Seven made a mental note to send her with a hypospray for growing pains. 

“Pancakes?” her eyes widened. “Yummy!”

The childish outburst made the table laugh again. Seven sat down in her normal place and watched at the family began to dig in. It was bittersweet. This wasn’t her family, but at the same time, it was. These were not her children, but she loved them fiercely. They had parents already. Seven assumed that Tom and B’Elanna let her push the boundary since she’d deprived of this experience. Never once had she been made to feel like a third wheel or obstruction. 

They ate and chattered back and forth, Mehir even adding his additions here and there. Once they had filled and the plates had been cleared, Seven deposited all the dishes in the sink and began to rinse the cookware. She felt herself being wrapped into a warm hug from behind and smiled at the gesture. She turned around and was elated at how happy her friend looked. 

“I appreciate you. A lot.” B’Elanna started, emotion clogging her voice. “You’ve become one of my best friends. I feel like I don’t thank you enough.”

Seven swallowed thickly and grasped her friend by the arms. “Sharing your beautiful family with me is enough. Very rarely in my life have I felt safe. I don’t take the feeling for granted. I feel safe here. I think it might be time for me to go home, though.”

“Why?” B’Elanna looked startled.

“I think that I need to stop hiding. Bjayzl hasn’t surfaced, ex-Borg are being reintegrated into society. Tom even said last week that the prototypes of the regeneration units were being deployed.”

“Is it the kids?”

“Would it be wrong if I said yes? I love them so much, too much! I forget they aren’t mine sometimes. You’ve been so gracious to share them with me. But, I can’t get too attached to them.”

“Hate to break it to you, but you already have. I’ve seen your face when they talk to you. You love them, and they love you right back. We could be your collective, Seven. I know you miss being on your own but I-” Her voice broke “can’t lose you again. I can’t watch you try to die over and over again. You’re happy here, you’re home. Also, you heard Tom go off last night! Someone specifically mentioned you by designation and human name! You’re like the Borg patient zero to them! There isn’t much those dirty assholes wouldn’t do to get ahold of you! You’re not safe over there.”

“You have been so, so kind to me. I need to leave for my own sake. I am finally independent. The more I cut ties with Starfleet and the Borg, the more of my humanity I gain. Please understand. It won’t be for a while, I have some things to sort out first. Also, I would never leave you on your birthday.”

“You’d better not! Even if I forgot about it.”

Seven slid her hands up to her shoulders and held her friend at arm’s length. “B’Elanna Torres, you are one of the most important people in my life. I’m a better human to have known you. Now, stop crying and go get dressed, you do have to work today.” Seven released her and winked.

“Besides, you have one hour until you need to leave and I will make sure the kids are taken care of. Tell Tom to use the time  _ efficiently. _ ”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't get too used to updates like this, hah! I'm trying to post as much as I can before I switch to another story I am writing. : )


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> general content warning for gore. after this, there's one more sad chapter and then things start to look up.

_So when you come back and make me happy_

_I'll forgive you, dear, I'll take all the blame_

_-2391-_

  
  


Something smacking Seven in the back of her head caused her to wake. It took her a couple of beats to realize that she was convulsing and the pain was from her head bouncing off whatever she was strapped to. Her extremities were numb; all she could sense was a feverous discomfort radiating from the lower half of her body. 

It seeped into her bones and dripped from her skin. Beams of pain pulsed from her thighs up into her pelvis. She felt a liquid trickle from her legs to her ankles. Pins and needles danced in her limbs, creating excruciating tension in her muscles. Either her nerves had been damaged or she had been incapacitated for an extended period. Her lungs burned, each breath was a challenge. Her ribs rattled with fluid and her back muscles spasmed painfully. An invisible weight pressed on her chest and for a moment she thought her ribs would shatter. The restraints around her wrists dug into her tender skin. Her neck was stiff, the muscles cried out when she attempted to move her head. She had been passed out so long that any movement was excruciating. 

After a few deep, painful, breaths, Seven was able to rotate her head to free up some of the tension that had been building there. The vertebrae towards the top of her spine cracked into place and a chilled wet feeling dripped down her body. Slowly, the numbness in her legs and feet faded out into fatigue. She looked down and realized that she was standing. She tried to move her legs and cried out when the weakened muscles began to cramp up her legs and to her hips. Her body shook and she began to feel her consciousness fade once more. 

She was on the brink of dehydration and the hunger pains in her stomach sounded downright feral. Even in the darkened area, she could tell that she was in some sort of warehouse. She tried to clear her throat and wheezed so hard she began to cough. 

From what she could see of the room, she was only able to make out a bunch of shapes. Directly next to her was a neon green numeral display. The combination of numbers didn’t mean anything to her but, the display was bright enough to partially illuminate the room. To her left, just past her restrained hand, were a few medical beds. To her right, was the same with an additional small table at about knee-level that held some metal and what looked to be entrails. The metal was dented and creased and the organs in the bin were soaking in a solution of sorts. 

Bile rose in her throat and threatened to spill out of her. A cold sweat broke out across her skin and immediately she recognized the signs of a fever-induced shock. She was in a bad way, and she had no idea where she was or how she had arrived there. 

The last thing she remembered was talking to B’Elanna via tablet while she cooked herself dinner. They had talked about the change in weather and her friend had updated her on all of the drama in Miral’s teenage friend group. She also had been very proud of how Mehir’s speech had been coming along. 

It was still light outside, and she had seen a figure dart past her back porch. But, she had brushed it off as the neighbor’s dogs playing in her yard again. Perhaps that had been her fatal mistake. Being on edge and paranoid all of the time had taken a huge toll on her mental health. The quietness of her home haunted her, a reminder of her days of solitude after her traumatic split from the collective. 

She tried to muster any clues about her current state and was met with silence. She could feel her Borg limbs, and her nanoprobes were functional, but it was as if they simply refused to work. Her wrists were sensitive and very raw but she continued to try and free herself. After many failed attempts, she thrashed out and foolishly wasted energy. The back of her skull cracked against the wood behind her, causing her vision to blur. For a moment, she felt a sense of clarity. Almost like whatever she’d been given had begun to wear off. Quickly she realized that if she was uncomfortable now, it was only going to get worse. 

Stabbing pains emerged from her torso and she fought the urge to double over. She closed her eyes and tried her best to calm down. An elevated heart rate would only hinder her escape. She breathed in and out with the best semblance of tempo she could muster. A burning sensation engulfed her entire body and it felt as if her skin would simply burn away. 

A scraping noise in the corner caught her attention. A figure began to emerge from the darkened corner, sauntering towards her with a familiar sway of hips. Bjayzl appeared, dragging what looked to be a large set of bolt cutters behind her. 

“Oh, Annika. I have missed you.” Bjayzl’s form appeared before her, the green light of the room cast shadows over her face. She looked exactly as she had in the small bar many years ago. Only now instead of the pleasant smile, she sported a devious grin. “Pity you’re still alive, though. You’re worth quite a bit of money.”

“Why? You’ve taken everything I have. What else do you want from me?” Seven groaned, the pain from her torso spreading throughout her body. It morphed into an overwhelming itch.

“You have nothing left to give me. I’ve simply taken everything I wanted. I know you have some subservient need to please those who care for you. It’s your crux, your _cursed_ existence,” Bjayzl drawled as she approached Seven. She walked closer, her head level with Seven’s knees. “I can tell way deep down, in places only I’ve been, you still think you’re going to come out of this on top. Figuratively of course. We both know how much you enjoy relinquishing control.”

Bjayzl reached out and cut one of the chains keeping her ankle restrained. Seven’s body sagged and she did not attempt to leave. It was almost as if Bjayzl knew she was too weak to escape and teased her with freedom. 

“You still look quite attractive, don’t you worry your precious cold, half-breed heart. It seems only yesterday that you lay splayed out in front of me, trembling with need. Only this time I won’t choke at the thought of tasting your metallic body. No, not at all. This time I’m salivating over how pristine, how...human you are. I would consider it an upgrade, truly. I do hope you never planned on having children though, there were a few unexpected casualties along the way.”

Seven had no idea what the woman in front of her was talking about. “What do you want?”

Unexpectedly, Bjayzl began to laugh. Not a simple giggle; it was more of a taunting snicker. She walked to Seven and began unlocking her other ankle restraint. The chuckles faded as she released all of her restraints, sans the ones around her wrists. Once her body was freed, Seven realized how off-balance and addled she was. 

“Pity. You looked almost pious up there like Christ himself. Annika Hansen, Seven of Nine, the ex-Borg from the Delta Quadrant, with nothing left but a chip on her shoulder and an _embarrassing_ desire to fit in. Too bad you’re riddled with those monstrosities. I tried my best, I really did.” Bjayzl stepped back from her. “It’s not so bad if you squint really.”

“What have I done to you? Icheb was innocent. He was my-”

“My son?” Bjayzl taunted her. “Yes, we _know_. Goodness.”

“You took the only family I had left! I have nothing. I have no one!” Seven swallowed back the sobs that threatened to escape. She would not give this woman, this _creature_ , the pleasure of watching her cry.

“You think Icheb is all I have taken of yours? You’re in for quite the surprise, little one.” Seven’s head snapped up at that admission. What did she mean?

Bjayzl looped a finger through Seven’s belt loop and tugged her pelvis forward. The stretch of her skin was so painful she cried out. “It’s so thrilling to see you like this. Now, _this_ is the Annika that I wanted to see. Flushed with anger, propelled by hatred _. This_ is what you were built to be!”

Seven looked down at her with as much contempt as she could muster. 

“I almost felt guilty for killing him. I won’t admit it to anyone else, but I hold some regret for it. His death was meaningless. I had been fed faulty information.” Bjayzl held up her hands, palms out. “I do take the blame for that one. He wasn’t even worth anything. Just a waste of resources and lots of Starfleet on my trail.”

Seven’s eye twitched, her body was powering down slowly. She either needed to regenerate or find somewhere to rest immediately. While Bjayzl walked around the room describing whatever she had done, Seven had been trying her to best to conceal that she had one of the wrist restraints nearly off. 

Suddenly her head cracked to the side, her skull bouncing off the wood behind her with a dull thud.

“Listen to me! Did you know what he sacrificed for you?” Bjayzl screamed at her, her arm winding up to slap her again.

“Icheb?”

“No, you dolt! Your precious Chakotay!”

Seven’s eyes widened.

“We beat him senseless. He never broke. All we wanted was your location. He told us he would rather ‘suffer honorably than die a traitor’ which seems odd considering that’s how he came to Voyager, yes?”

“H-He?” Seven tried to speak. Words were failing her. 

“He died a slow, painful death. Seven of Nine,” Bjayzl spat her designation with disgust. “He died because your Captain, your lover, your _Kathryn_ insisted you two would marry. He would be your spouse. Little did we know that those details were a little _outdated_.”

“When? I?”

“Oh, Annika. You can’t blame her more than she likely blames herself. You see, she thought she was saving you. Oh, I can only imagine her face when she realized that her precious Starfleet is not as prestigious as it once was. They want you too! I’d strike a bargain with them, but I don’t think they want leftovers. I had you first, I’ll be the one to finish you.”

It was then that Seven’s body began to shut down. As the darkness shrouded her, she realized that she would never leave this place. She would die alone, with the knowledge that Chakotay died without purpose to keep her safe. 

She truly did not deserve the people in her life.

-x-

She awoke to the sound of fighting around her. She tested her limbs and found that while she was still physically exhausted, the pain she had been having had abated. She had fallen from the board she had been strapped to and was now resting on the blood-stained concrete below. The sound of shoes scraping on cement and bodies hitting the floor surged around her. She attempted to stand but became so unsteady that she fell back down. A hot beam of phaser fire shot parallel to her head, singeing some of her hair. Something clinked behind her and Seven grabbed it. She tugged at it and hissed when she realized that it was attached to her implant on her lower back. 

It was small, no bigger than an apple, and was chrome in appearance. She saw no way to open it to investigate it. So, she did the next best thing and tucked it into her back pocket. 

She transferred her weight to her right leg and used her momentum to propel herself into a roll across the cement. When she stood to her full height, her eyes widened at the scene in front of her. It took a moment for her vision to sharpen from her initial blow. Lieutenant Harry Kim stood in front of her, phaser in each hand, looking a little worse for wear. 

“She’s awake!” He yelled into his comm. “Got a lock yet?”

“Almost! Give me a few seconds!” a familiar voice called out from the communicator strapped to his chest. Tom Paris. Friends. Her friends had come to her!

“Gotcha!” 

Seven felt old feelings of her cells being transported. After a few seconds, the inside of a ship appeared before her. She fell to her knees from fatigue and adrenaline. She collapsed her hands together in front of her chest and the sight before her. She looked upwards at the ceiling and thanked whoever was watching over for getting her out of what would have been her grave.

Harry, Tom, B’Elanna and Samantha Wildman stood before her. They wore no uniforms and Harry was sporting a deep wound on his forehead. But the sight alone made Seven reel with emotion. She had been saved from certain death. She owed these people her life. 

  
“Well, it’s not the reunion we wanted. But, it is good to see you,” Harry knelt and put a hand on her shoulder. His other hand grabbed her elbow and eased her up. A fissure of pain still rang out from her abdomen and she looked down.

“You might not want to move much right now. BJayzl did a number on you. Let’s get you settled.” He led her to the bunks as the rest of the small crew followed. 

Harry set her gently on the bed and reached around to tap on the cord leading into her spine. A strange feeling surged through her and suddenly a small sound of a depressurized seal filled the silence. He moved around her again and stood in front of her. 

“Meet the Malum 3! It’s the newest prototype of the portable regenerators.” He said a little too excitedly. “It seemed to be a good time to test it out.”

“How did you find me? Where was I?” Seven was astonished. 

All heads turned towards B’Elanna, who at least pretended to look ashamed. “I may have slipped a tracking signal into your ocular implant when we recalibrated it.”

“Why?” Seven asked. She raised her hands in surrender and asked her question with a less-combative tone. These people did just save her life. “Under these circumstances, I am very grateful. Why though?”

“I don’t think you realize how many times you put yourself in harm’s way. Did you ever think about _how_ you ended up safe so many times? You nearly drank yourself to death, and you almost got killed when you were on Vergessen. I actually thought you were dead this time. I-” B’Elanna’s voice cracked. “I can’t sleep knowing that you’re not safe. You’re family to me, Seven. When our conversation was cut short while Mehir was chatting, I knew something was wrong. I didn’t want to invade your privacy. But, when Tom and I got there, it looked bad. Your house is a mess.”

“I know we haven’t seen each other since we landed,” Harry added. “But you saved my ass so many times that I probably owe you my life by now. Those two called me and asked if I would be willing to come along to help. I would lay down my life for you, Seven. You’re so important to me - to all of us.”

“You will do no such thing,” Seven demanded, her throat thick with emotion. “You owe me nothing, I owe you everything.”

“You helped raise my daughter,” Samantha Wildman stepped forward. “She still thinks the world of you. Imagine if you’d died. I never want to have that conversation with her.” 

Seven’s heart lept at that realization.“I concur. When I am well, I wish to see her. I believe it’s been too long.” 

“Where are we?”

“Well,” Tom sighed and waved a hand. “We’re orbiting Freecloud. Have you ever been?”

“That’s where the Rangers keep their money. I’ve piloted a few small ships over it for reconnaissance. That’s it,” Seven sifted through her memories. “I did land once, it seems...busy.”

“Yeah if you’re into intergalactic gambling or black market body parts,” Harry muttered. 

“Precisely.”

“We traced you to the basement of a lounge. Do you know why Bjayzl would take you there?” B’Elanna stood and walked over to where Seven laid in her bed. 

“To humiliate me. She told me she was responsible for Chakotay’s death. What of her?”

Harry shrugged. “Gone when we got there. I’m sorry, I know you wanted better news. We had planned on grabbing you and going but we were interrupted by some guards. You were able to complete half of a regeneration cycle in an hour. I’ll bet you could use another few hours though.. We don’t know how long she had you down there.”

Seven nodded. “I am forever in your debt. I do not deserve you.” 

“No, it’s the other way around, Seven.” Samantha walked to her and placed a loving hand on her shoulder. “You have done so much to us, and had so much taken from you.”

She looked around the small ship, taking in all the additions and features on it. Seven scooted back on the bed and sat cross-legged. Pain still radiated from her torso, but she was too nervous to lift the shirt and survey the damage. 

Tears formed in Seven’s eyes, “What did they do to me?”

B’Elanna walked forward and put her hand on Seven’s shoulder. “She had started to disassemble you. Your abdominal implant was the first to go. I don’t know the specifics, but it seems to have damaged quite a few of your organs. You have dermapacks wrapped around yourself. Tom?”

Tom stepped forward, looking woefully uncomfortable. “I think you should be good after a week. If we had an EMH it would be easier but, uh, we’re all on leave right now. I don’t have a regenerator on board.”

“You are? How?”

“We have friends in places. Once we explained what we were doing, our schedules were magically cleared until we reported back.”

“Is this a Federation ship?”

“Nope, this is my tinker project! The Fairhaven. She’s a beauty.”

“I see,” Seven closed her eyes. It made sense now. The basin next to her. She began to tremble, overwhelmed by the sadness that plagued her. That vile woman had taken everything from her. She had no family, and now no way for her to build her own as well. Was there anything else to be taken from her?

She heard the sound of a hypospray and felt the cold metal press against her neck. For once, she didn’t fight it. The darkness enveloped her once more and she truly, honestly hoped she didn’t wake up. 

-x-

  
  


When she woke again in the ship she had been incredibly disoriented. It took a little bit for her reality to sink in. It seemed that everyone aboard had understood her need for privacy. When B’Elanna asked if she wanted to come home with them, she had politely declined and instead asked to be dropped off at her home in New Mexico. The ride home was silent and a little awkward. 

Samantha Wildman had been the only one brave enough to talk with her. They talked about unimportant things: the weather, the gossip, how Naomi had aced her Starfleet entrance exams, and would start her schooling in the fall. According to her, many planetary governments were uniting in finding Bjayzl and her band of men posing as Rangers. 

The actual Fenris Rangers had, in a strange turn of events, lent their manpower to try and find the woman who was single-handedly dismembering ex-Borg for money. Seven mentioned it was probably bad business for their name to be run through the dirt. Samantha said it was likely that the Fenris Rangers were just doing their jobs. She knew that having half of the Federation after the woman who had been ruining her life was supposed to make her feel better. But, until she witnessed the demise of the vile creature, she would not let her guard down. 

One thing that had always stuck out to Seven was _who_ was buying the parts. Who would want the cold, lifeless implants that had come from live subjects? No one seemed to have an answer for that. Or, at least no one wanted to think about it. 

She was tired. Her body and mind had been broken too many times. So, once Samantha had gone quiet, Seven had begun to formulate her plan, her grand finale, with one single purpose: revenge. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pls forgive any errors, my eyes are crossed at this point. we. love. hurt/comfort. in. this. house. things will probably look up from here. maybe : )

_ You are my sunshine, my only sunshine _

_ You make me happy when skies are gray _

-2392-

It had taken several months to completely heal from the damage done to her. Most of her organs were able to regenerate, thanks to Borg technology. But, the one thing that had never healed was her mind. It had suffered a fatal blow. 

Gone was her lust for life, her will to exist. She was driven by revenge and spite. She ate because she required fuel, she regenerated to stay alert. She pretended for everyone when they called. She put on quite a show when Tom had installed a dampener to hide her signature around her home.

She had never been one to care about beauty, but she avoided mirrors at all costs. To see the triangular scarring that ran from rib to hip was just another brutal reminder that she was destined to die alone. Every mirror in her home was shattered, and every reflective surface covered. She even bathed in the dark, her gaze focused on the tiny window that faced the moon. She thought maybe, just maybe, if she stared at the moon long enough, it would swallow her whole.

She knew that B’Elanna could still track where she went, but at least her friend had the decency to not discuss it. She started scouting for information by hanging around transporters, listening to see if there was any gossip about where BJayzl could have been. Some people claimed that she’d been spotted in the Beta Quadrant. Others said she had set up stations along the Mississippi river spanning the entire length from Canada to Louisiana. 

At first, her group of friends had tried to investigate themselves. But, Starfleet had doubled down on their locations once they had returned. In a not-so-surprising turn of events, B’Elanna had been invited to join the Borg Reclamation team as a special guest. Apparently, her expertise was needed. So, their ability to travel had been significantly reduced. Once Seven had gotten healthy enough to travel, she began to suss out some of the leads that her friends overheard. She received little pushback from them, which she was thankful for. 

Also, Seven had told them point-blank that if they did not give her information, then she would find it out for herself. It would be better for them to work at a team. So far she had gone to every location supplied. This time, they’d told her that Bjayzl’s group had been spotted in the midwest. So, Seven mapped out her week and planned a course. 

Eventually, she made her way towards the closest transport location, which added almost a day to her journey. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to steal a ship and fly to her coordinates. That type of decision was longer feasible if it went south. Her body had been through too much too quickly. 

As she aged, her nanoprobes took longer and longer to rejuvenate her. Her technology was failing slowly - it wasn’t as if the Borg had planned anything long-term. With their logic, they had revolving bodies all of the time. Drones were disposable. Longevity was _ irrelevant. _ She had also noticed that the human parts of her were aging as well. She still felt relatively good, especially after all the escapades she had been through in the last decade alone.

She stood outside the station for a couple of minutes. No matter how many times she chased this woman, her nerves would spike. It wasn’t unwelcome. She’d spent most of her formative years on Voyager in various stages of panic. She thrived under pressure, but her motivation and drive had faded considerably.

She pulled a flask from her pocket and took a swig. The liquid burned down her throat, centering her. Seven raised the flask to the overcast sky. 

“A toast,” she insisted. “To vengeance!”

She laughed in self-deprecation. Who was she even talking to? 

Once she stepped onto the platform and felt the weightlessness of being transported, her nerves faded into a fatal concentration. The familiar hypersensitivity and concentration slid into place as she mentally prepared herself for this mission. A familiar checklist appeared in her mind and for a moment, she was briefly reminded of the final flight she had taken with Icheb. What had gone from one of the most rewarding days of her life had quickly turned into one that had ended everything she believed in. Every passionate story she had heard about how beautiful the ‘American dream’ was, had ended the minute she saw her son splayed before her. There was nothing for her here, or anywhere else for that matter. 

For six years she had been chasing the woman who had gruesomely murdered her son and violated her body in the most heinous of ways. Tonight, she would get her revenge or die trying. This was the end, the finale. The climax of her life. 

Seven of Nine, the ex-Borg drone that failed as a mother, a lover, and a human being. 

How _ inefficient. _

When Seven materialized on the platform, she noticed that there was a large Starfleet presence. They stood around casually, which was decidedly unsettling. Many were conversing with each other but staring off in the distance. They also had a different style of uniform than what she’d been accustomed too. However, as someone who had spent quite a chunk of time with Starfleet officers, she could recognize them anywhere. 

Something was not right. 

She hugged her bag close and took off the opposite direction. Granted, Starfleet itself did not pose a threat to her. But, knowing that the organization had also placed a bounty of sorts on her head was still at the forefront of her mind. Bjayzl had even indicated that the prestigious organization had become something dishonorable. Her heart still hurt knowing that Janeway had inadvertently aided in Chakotay’s death but it hurt more for the guilt that the loyal Admiral likely harbored. There was no way that she could have orchestrated her former First Officer’s death; those two had a bond that no one understood. 

She’d never trusted them. Starfleet, The Federation, any governing body. All hierarchies ran the risk of corruption, no matter how noble their intentions. Seven knew she was safe with no one. There were a handful of people who had her best interests at heart, and she was not one of them. How funny, that her friends cared more about her wellbeing than she did. Her lip curled at her sense of self-pity. 

Wallowing solved nothing and there was no time to simply do nothing.

After high-tailing it away from the transport location, Seven checked her tablet to see if her friends were able to narrow their coordinates to something a little more accurate.

She had a message from B’Elanna instructing her to contact them as soon as she arrived. 

Seven looked around at the fairly busy city. Quite a few people were walking in and out of shops. One thing that stood out was their lack of technology. There were no parking spots for crafts or courier ships. There was even a bicycle chained to one of the street signs. The city looked as if it had been plucked from a history lesson. 

Her pocket vibrated and Seven darted in between two buildings. There was a shaded stairwell hidden from the street, so Seven set her things down and took refuge there. 

“Hello?” B’Elanna’s face appeared on her screen. “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to check in almost an hour ago!”

“I transported in and Starfleet was everywhere. I took off, but I’m not exactly sure where I am. It’s a quaint little place. No technology, kind of like my city. I didn’t think they would take too kindly to an ex-drone walking the street.”

B’Elanna sighed. “I think you should get outta there. It feels wrong. Tom thinks the intel he got was planted.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Seven lowered the tablet to the cement of the stairs and put her head into her hands. “I’m tired. I can’t sleep knowing that she’s out there. I have no energy left. This isn’t a life anymore. I don’t have anyone or anything.”

“You have us.”

“Yes, but at what cost?. No one is safe around me. I’m a danger to everyone. They made that clear.”

“Are you losing it?”

Seven let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I might be. This has been going on for too long.”

“I’m sorry babe. I can’t even imagine. I have something that might cheer you up!’ B’Elanna got up, showing Seven the back of her living room. After a few moments, Mehir’s face, covered in dirt, appeared on the screen. 

“Seven!” he exclaimed. 

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. He had grown so much since she had left. Complicated maternal feelings surged, cresting only when his gap-toothed smile shone through the screen.

“Hey, buddy! It’s so good to see you!” 

“Guess what?”

Seven smiled into the screen. “What?”

“Love you!” he giggled, his curly hair bouncing as he was replaced with B’Elanna. Seven tried her best to hide her trembling hands from her friend. 

“Thank you,” Seven whispered. “You have no idea how much I needed that.” 

“I don’t, you’re right. But, if you’re smart down there, you can make it to his birthday party next month. I’m sure it would be good for both of you.”

“We will see. What should I do? Do I go to the original location?”

“I hate to say it, but I think Starfleet may have led you into a trap. They might be on to us.”

“I might go anyway. If anything, they might have left something behind.” Seven began to punch coordinates into her tablet. “I can get there on foot in two hours, or I can transport. I think I’ll walk. I don’t want to go back to that station.”

“There’s nothing I can say to stop you?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

“Okay but, I’m just saying that I have the kids today. I can’t run around and save you this time.”

“Noted, Lieutenant.” Seven said in a tone similar to the one she’d used when they’d first been acquainted. It was meant as a joke with a subtle warning.

“Okay, Admiral Asshole.”

Seven chuckled as she closed the channel. With any luck, she would be able to go in and out quickly. She’d already made the journey, what was the harm of doing some recon? Part of her wanted this to go smoothly, another part - this one much darker - wanted closure by any means possible, even death. 

All she wanted was to avenge her son.

And his father.

And her life. 

-x-

Her pocket vibrated, alerting Seven that she was within five miles of her coordinates. She tapped the tablet through her pants and pulled out her knife. Her body tensed with well-practiced tactical precision. She could not afford to make mistakes. Around her, alpine corn stalks ripped at her skin and tore at her clothes. It could be very easy to get lost in the field, the recurring stalks made all of the rows incredibly disorienting. 

The skies above had darkened and the temperature had dropped significantly. A storm was brewing and Seven hoped she was able to get this over with before it began to rain. Unfortunately, she had not packed for rain. 

Her mistake.

-x-

Once she cleared the fields, she saw a temporary pavilion. It looked similar to the ones on Vergessen, which made her shudder. The simple white tarp material sparkled as it began to sprinkle. At the bottom, it was held down by rope and stakes - how rudimentary of them. 

She inspected the perimeter, checking for any signs of struggle. It seemed mostly untouched; even the grass around it had not been disturbed. There were no footprints and the bottom of the tent was still white. So, it hadn’t been there for long. Quietly, she lowered herself to the ground and peeked under the flap of the tent. 

What she saw made her stomach turn. 

Azan and Rebi, now well into adulthood, were strung up on a wooden platform almost identical to the one she had been dissected on. Their bodies were pale, illuminated by a floodlight in the corner. Buckets were underneath them, holding what looked to be their blood. 

No.

Not these men too. It was too much. How had BJayzl found the twins? Even Seven had not been given their location. Would this woman torture everyone she loved?

Seven reached down to her hip and pulled the phaser out of its holster. Silently, she scooted herself under the tent wall and hid behind a stack of boxes. She had learned from her mistakes; barging in and causing a commotion would be ineffective. She was expected, a welcomed guest of honor in a Borg drone bloodbath.

She pulled herself up onto her elbows and checked out the scene. The twins were bare-chested, covered in blood. They trembled and whimpered, which broke Seven’s heart. It felt like only weeks ago that she was sending them off to their parents. Now they seemed more childlike than ever before. 

Once she had pulled herself behind a storage shelf, she stood and assessed the area. There was little actually in the tent. Mostly crates and bulk containers of medical supplies. Overhead, she heard the wind pick up and jumped when thunder cracked loudly around them. It darkened outside, lowering the visibility in the tent considerably.

The sound of something falling rang out on the opposite side of the tent so Seven ducked down behind a case of sterile gloves. 

“She’s not here, Admiral.” a voice whispered. “And I think we might have been followed by security.”

“Of course she’s there, we saw her transport in!” a voice bellowed throughout the tent. “Unless one of her friends tipped her off? Forget security, they’re used to coming up a day late and a dollar short.”

“Well, she’s not here. Can we pack this up? This storm’s rollin’ in and it looks pretty bad. I haven’t seen any movement in hours.”

“Fine! But when it clears, I want everyone on the ground. If there’s anything I despise more than  _ Borg _ , it’s running on the heels of that unhinged psychopath Bjayzl.”

“Understood. Three to beam up.”

Bright lights danced throughout the tent as the owner of the voice was beamed away. Once the lights had dimmed, Seven waited a few moments to see if anyone else would emerge. 

When she eventually stood back up, she noticed that the twins had been left behind. Seven looked back and forth and walked tentatively towards the men being held captive. She walked around the platform, committing the whole scene to memory. 

This wasn’t right. 

Seven took a calculated risk and raised her phaser to the restraints on Rebi’s hands. She fired once, and all hell broke loose. 

The image of the men became static - a hologram. She’d been duped. Three seconds after the image before her had been altered, she heard the sound of an engine overhead. A siren blared and the contents of the tent began to shake. 

Thinking on her feet, Seven bolted out of the tent and back into the cornfield. She ran and ran until her lungs burned and her legs trembled. Above her, the stormy night was pitch black and resoundingly quiet. When her legs eventually buckled and she fell, plagued with fatigue, she hid in the rough brush of the corn stalks and kept her head down.

Lighting blazed across the sky, drawing a bleached smear across the horizon. When the rambunctious thunder hummed in the distance, Seven was reminded of a conversation she had with Janeway many years ago. 

_ You know, Seven, if you count the seconds between lightning and thunder, you can count how many miles are between you and the storm. _

_ What is the rate of accuracy? A seemingly imprecise way to measure distance.  _

_ I’m not sure. It’s what my father would tell Phoebe when she was scared of storms. _

_ Were you ever scared of storms? _

_ Oh heavens no. I understood them, appreciated their necessity.  _

_ They are necessary? _

_ Have you ever felt rain Seven? _

_ I have not.  _

_ When we return, I’ll make sure to explain it firsthand. You see, the rain is a cleanser, an eraser of sorts. When it storms, everything is washed away. When you wake up the next morning, the sun shines brighter and it smells so fresh. It’s like whatever happened beforehand, no longer exists. Storms are the grand finale, the fourth act.  _

_ I will pay more attention to storms in the future, Captain.  _

_ I only hope to be there for your first thunderstorm, especially if it’s in Bloomington. I know I promised to take you there. I haven’t forgotten.  _

_ I wish for that as well. _

_ -x- _

Seven eventually sat up onto the hard dirt of the field. She had been running for nearly three acres. Her chest heaved with exertion and sweat trickled like tributaries down her face. Her lungs had never truly recovered from whatever she had been given in the warehouse on Freecloud.

Overhead a small craft no bigger than a helicopter drove past with a bright beacon on the grass. It swept closer to her and luckily missed her torso by less than a meter. Her anxiety was paramount. It was too much. She was too tired. For a moment she considered just hailing them. But, Miral’s smile still burned in her brain. So, she scooted into the stalks a few inches to the left and winced at how the razorlike leaves ripped at her skin. 

Seven unhooked the phaser from her side and removed the uncomfortable tactical belt. Another crack of lightning illuminated the whole field, making the stalks appear ghastly. They taunted her of her failure. She had failed to avenge her family and failed to keep herself safe. Hopefully, her friends would forgive her for not keeping her promises. 

The smell of the air changed and Seven finally understood what Janeway had meant when she talked about the smell of rain. It smelled cold, yet humid. It was invigorating, but not quite enough to get her to keep running. 

She turned a half turn and laid back, her hair fanning out over the gritty earth. She grabbed her flask and downed the rest of its contents. If she was going to die, she would die on her terms. 

She threw the empty flask and laughed quietly. She’d lived quite a life. Even if it had been filled with lots of sorrow and plenty of grief. Suddenly, a loud thunderclap ricocheted around the field, echoing back and forth. 

_ One Mississippi _

Lightning struck close by and she smiled, couldn’t be too far away now. The wind picked up and she felt a singular droplet smack against her cheek. Suddenly, the sky opened up and rain began to pour all over her. She looked upwards and saw a bright light overhead. It was almost time. The booze in her system began to make it hard to think. If the amount of alcohol she ingested didn’t kill her, she’d at least wake up in a few days. She raised a heavy arm and pressed the cross of her necklace between her fingers. 

For now, she enjoyed the feeling of being bathed by the rains. Maybe Janeway was right; this was the end of her chapter. 

If only the woman she craved so terribly had been there to witness her first thunderstorm in Bloomington, Indiana.

-x-

Glittery phosphoresce danced in front of her until it blurred into a sparkle out at sea. Liquid gushed around her and made it impossible for her to see. She reached out towards the light and sighed as she lost her strength and fell into the mud below. She breathed it in and gagged as the liquid earth clogged her throat and made it impossible for her to breathe. A textured hand enveloped hers and gave a mighty yank.

“Ma, come help me with her! She’s heavy!”

“I’m comin’! Let me grab my boots!”

Seven, too weak to speak, felt the hands disappear from her feet. Still unable to breathe, she began to lose consciousness. 

“Here, let me grab her legs!” a second voice said. 

“We gotta get her in, she’s so cold!”

“Phoebe, we gotta keep moving! Don’t let her go, I don’t want to drop her on the cement.”

“Where’s-”

“Running a bath!”

“How are we gonna get her up the stairs?”

“Here! Switch me spots - I have an idea!”

Seven once again felt her limbs being lifted. The mud slithered further down her throat and she swallowed. Immediately, it came back up and expelled it feebly.

“She’s breathing!”

“I’m surprised she's alive! They don’t know how long she was out there!”

Suddenly the temperature changed and Seven felt a pleasant warmth over her. She tried to open her eyes and found that she was too weak to even do that. Below her, her feet tangled and rendered her dependent on the arms holding her up. Her head fell to the side and her implant cracked against cool porcelain. 

Cold.

She was so cold, her fingers and toes were numb.

Equally cold hands worked under her clothes and peeled back the layers. With great care, a warm towel was worked around her face. She felt the dirt come off and the grime wiped away gently. Hot tears escaped, burning a trail down her cold cheeks. A hand swiped at the tears, brushing them away with care. One arm hooked under her legs while the other wrapped around her ribs. 

Her bones trembled with chill while her muscles spasmed. She cried out at the burning sensation around her. 

Was she on fire?

Reality faded in and out, like a broken visual channel in space. 

She felt herself being lifted and set back into lukewarm water. Too weak to move, her head fell forward between her knees. Her lower back screamed in agony but she was helpless against gravity. 

When the hands left her, Seven felt isolated and alone. Her thoughts came in short, erratic bursts. 

She felt someone else enter the water behind her. Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her backward. She shuddered at the sudden contact, but the warmth was therapeutic. The same warm towel began cleaning her body. Normally, she would feel exposed and vulnerable, but the hands were anything but. She felt safe, even if she had no idea what was happening. After her hair was rinsed, she once again was lifted from the water. She was carried and deposited on something soft. Once her head hit a pillow, she knew she could rest. 

She was safe. Finally. 

Fingertips stroked her back and she fell asleep wondering if she could bottle that feeling and keep it forever. 


	16. Chapter 16

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_

_Please don't take my sunshine away_

_-2393-_

A warm, wet tongue lapped at her nose. She sneezed, catapulting herself upwards on the bed which subsequently knocked Molly onto the floor. The dog jumped back on the bed and continued her affectionate assault. Seven swiped at her nose and sniffled a few times to clear the scent of dog breath from her senses. 

She reached up to pet mahogany fur and smiled when the Irish Setter rolled over and began to wiggle. After a few unsuccessful attempts to goad Seven into petting her, the dog ran out of the room and down the hallway. Pink shards of pre-dawn light flittered through the slits in the blinds, turning the room into an exquisite piece of midwestern art. Birds sang their praises, and off in the distance, she could hear the Janeway’s rooster Jean-Luc asserting his territory. She raised her hands over her head and pulled upwards, groaning at the noises her spine made. A sense of unconditional peace rolled over her, upturning the corners of her mouth into an underutilized grin. 

While her bed was warm and delightful, she had chores to tend to. Reluctantly, Seven slid out of the blankets and reached under the bed to grab her regenerator. She’d gone a week so far with just sleeping, but she wanted to keep it handy just in case. The small orb looked strangely out of place, metallic and cold against the paisley bedspread that the woman she adored had slept underneath many times. The longer she stayed at the Janeway farm, the more she was able to practice long-forgotten habits. Taking care of herself was one of the most paramount things that had been tossed aside during her grieving. Regeneration now happened when her body asked for it. Eating happened when she was hungry, and sleep happened no matter what was on her mind. 

As she did every morning, Seven opened her closet and selected an outfit. Technically it was Kathryn’s childhood closet but for now, it had been loaned to her. She picked up one of the flannels, thankful for her friend’s youthful affinity for oversized clothing, and grabbed some jean shorts. The shorts were actually from Phoebe’s wardrobe, but she had thrust them at Seven claiming that she had about fifteen nearly identical pairs. So, her closet now held all kinds of Janeway hand-me-downs. 

She didn’t complain - something about wearing garments that had been already loved and cared for relaxed her. It was a protective suit of strength and leadership. Or, that’s how she felt when she slipped on the borrowed shirts and denim. All her life she had donned a uniform of sorts, so even the mundane task of selecting which color undershirt to wear was exhilarating. 

She made her way downstairs, slid on her boots, and tiptoed out the door. The third step of the porch creaked, and the ground squirrels scattered from their home under the planks. The gravel driveway was dewy, creating a crystalline vision across the Janeway property. For a minute, Seven stood and watched the sunrise. It spilled over the grass and cascaded towards her. 

She opened her arms and accepted the effulgent tangerine embrace with a grin.

It healed her, bit by bit, to be greeted by the sun every morning. The sunrise had been something she was unaware of during most of her life. Sunset was also quite an experience for her. Though, it seemed that it would be only amplified if she had someone to swing on the porch with her when the day bid them goodnight. 

Every morning for almost a year she had woken in a borrowed bedroom that was just so...familar to her. Her day was simple: she fed the animals in the morning, helped Gretchen with lunch, fixed things around the older house, and posed for Phoebe after dinner. Very rarely did her daily routine change, creating stability that had become a necessity for her mental well-being.

Gretchen Janeway had been a key component of Seven’s recovery. The woman was so against technology that she didn’t even own a replicator. Seven thought she was lucky to even have electricity. She barely had time to think about Starfleet and space, just tending to the farm kept her fulfilled. It almost seemed as if she was living life in reverse - solidifying her human foundation after years of neglect and lackluster life experience. 

Her first few weeks at the farm had been awkward at best. She had slept for almost three days after being quite literally drug though the mud. It had taken her weeks to warm up to the pair of Janeways. Not only were they essentially strangers, but they were also blood family to the woman who had broken her heart for so many years. Nevermind their very unique and distinct personalities. 

She had been tempted many times to ask about how she arrived but something always held her back. Perhaps she was scared of the truth. Maybe it was fear of being displaced for being too curious, even though that seemed wildly improbable considering how quickly she had been taken in as an honorary member of the family.

Janeway _had_ promised to take her to the farm, she just wished the circumstances had been different. 

One of the barn kittens bounded over to her and she scooped it up. It nuzzled her and purred like an engine at warp. Tiny needle-like claws poked her fingers that she dangled in front of the tiny creature. It batted and swung, quickly tiring of the game. She held the kitten in her hand and tickled its belly until the petite claws came back out. With ease, she deposited it on her shoulder and made her way to the barn. Once she walked past a tall pile of hay, she bent over so the kitten could jump off her back. The open area filled with animals began to whine at the sight of her. They knew what time it was. 

She grabbed the food and made sure to stop at every station. As she poured food into their bowls, she addressed them all by name and asked how their night went. Of course, they didn’t answer, but Seven could tell that the attention was appreciated nonetheless. If only the Doctor could see that his social lessons had been put to use.

On her way out of the barn, she grabbed the shovel from where it hung and set it against the wall so Phoebe wouldn’t ask her to reach for it later. Feeling fulfilled and being put to work was something the ex-Borg had needed. It wasn’t obvious at first, but after her first round of hand callouses and backaches, she felt a sense of peace that she didn’t know had been possible. It was a miniature commune. They all relied on each other to ensure that things ran smoothly. Never in her life had she needed and _been needed_ so freely. 

After her morning chores were done she stopped at the hose on the side of the house and ran it over her hands to clean up. When all the grime from the dirty barn had been washed away, she dropped the hose and whistled for the dogs. After a few seconds, they bounded from the cornfield and dashed directly to her side. 

“Molly, Shannon, you will assist me,” Seven said, reverting to her old syntax for fun. When two pairs of innocent brown eyes stared back at her, her facade fell. “Gimme love!”

She bent down and laughed as she was pushed onto her rear by the dogs jumping on her and giving her face affectionate kisses. She laughed, actually laughed. It felt so good. The cold mud under the hose pressed against her back and she raised an arm to block a sloppy canine tongue. A moist nose pressed against her cheek and she reached both arms out to hug the pets. 

Once the dogs had calmed down, she scanned the yard and spotted their well-worn play frisbee. She sent the disc flying into the field and when the dogs chased after it, turned to go inside. 

Before she even got to the door, she could smell something sweet. That had been one of the biggest surprises while recuperating at the farm. Gretchen Janeway home-cooked every meal and made enough to feed a town. Seven, who had been surviving on bourbon and whatever she could find on the road, had been emaciated by the time she’d been transplanted to the farm. 

The first few times she’d looked in the mirror, she had broken down and cried. The woman in the mirror was someone she did not recognize. Her pallor was gaunt, a ghost in tactical clothing. Her arms had lost their muscle and her knees were more prominent then she had ever remembered. All she had wanted was independence and when she was granted it, she failed to even meet her most basic needs. The fact that she showed this hollowed, gangly version of herself to the people she loved filled her with shame and embarrassment. 

Now, months later, she no longer drank herself into a stupor. Her body had filled out slightly, plus some. In fact, she looked more human than she could ever remember. Even her pale skin had gotten darker. 

Never once had she considered herself attractive. It wasn’t that she had hated her appearance; it just seemed a worthless, self-indulgent train of thought. Beauty was subjective - a conversation she had been having with Phoebe quite a bit. It was a societal expectation that held little interest to her. However, if asked what she found attractive in a person, it was hard for her not to describe Kathryn Janeway in minute detail, with a wicked blush to boot. 

Phoebe was just as smart as Kathryn, but polar opposite in means of expression. Their conversations were passionate and borderline manic at times. Almost as if they were making up for decades of missed topics. Where the Admiral spoke in measured tones, only conveying emotion in body language, Phoebe was a tangle of limbs and expressive eyes. Many times Seven felt weights lifted from her after just a few sentences. Catharsis and Phoebe Janeway were two things she had begun to associate with each other. Many nights found them in matching too-large paint shirts doodling on various canvases while drinking orange juice. 

She had been posing for the youngest Janeway for months. There was to be an exhibition of some sort in some exotic part of the world and Phoebe had been tasked with representing the United States with any medium. It felt foolish to be the subject of a set of portraits, considering that she had never stepped foot on Earth until the day Voyager had landed. But, perhaps that was the metaphor Phoebe had been looking for. She had been a stranger in a strange land but now had learned to appreciate her place on the planet. 

“Seven!” Gretchen greeted her happily when she opened the screen door. The older woman wiped her hands on her apron and held her hands out. Seven obliged the embrace and smiled when felt something being pushed into her back pocket. The older woman patted her shoulders twice and smiled at her with an all-too-familiar grin. 

When she fished the treasure out, she saw it was a postcard. It was from the Starfleet giftshop and had no return address. The front had a beautiful photograph of the fountains and the back had only a few lines of text.  
  
 _I always told you that I would take you home._

“She loves you, you know,” Gretchen said matter-of-factly. “I don’t pretend to know what happened between the two of you. But never have I seen my daughter be so gentle with someone.”

Seven stepped and looked at her quizzically. The older woman just smirked sagely and motioned to the kitchen. 

“Well, breakfast is in the oven so I guess it’s as good as time as any. I know I’ve kept you in the dark long enough.” Gretchen led her to the kitchen table. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you.”

“I don’t know why I continue to ask, you’ve told me repeatedly that you don’t care for it. I think I’m just a little flustered.” Gretchen sat down with a steaming mug in her hand. “Do you remember your first days here?”

Seven thought about the question for a moment. “Not entirely. I remember feelings, textures, smells, but I don’t have anything solid.”

The older woman sipped her coffee and looked Seven in the eyes. “What do you remember about before you got here?”

“I was running on too little. I hadn’t slept, eaten, or even changed clothes in too long. My whole life was focused on revenge. I pushed myself too hard. I walked into an obvious trap and almost did not make it out. My last memories are laying in the rain, remembering a conversation about thunderstorms I had with your daughter. In essence, I was saying goodbye to her,” Seven admitted, slightly embarrassed about her lack of judgment. “I was in a very bad way.”

“It breaks my heart to hear you say that. But, I don’t blame you. You’ve had quite a rough time on Earth - I don’t expect you to have any fondness for it,” Gretchen admitted holding out a hand. 

“I do, though,” Seven whispered, entwining their fingers together. 

“Why?”

“Because Kathryn’s here. She is my guardian angel from space and my tether to Earth. The moon to my sun.”

Tears filled the older woman’s eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“She is the Moon, and I the Sun. Cursed to exist despite each other, destined to constantly chase the fleeting steps of one another. We only exist in opposition, never to meet. But then, on some miraculously stormy day, we are allowed to coexist briefly.”

“You’re so poetic, Seven. How heartbreaking,” cried Gretchen, squeezing Seven’s hand. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard. Why the sudden change of heart? I understand that you two have been chasing love for years.”

Seven scooted her chair out and made her way to the oven. She grabbed a towel, opened the oven, and sat their breakfast casserole on the cooling rack. When she turned around to face Gretchen, she admitted. “She remembered her promise to me, that’s all I ever wanted.”

“Her promise?”

“She said that once we got to Earth, she’d take me to Indiana.” Seven took out the postcard and twirled it in her hands gently. “ I just didn’t think it would take fifteen years.”

“I see.” Gretchen stared wistfully off in the distance. “And in response to how she had neglected you all of these years.”

“The longer I am on the run, being chased and taunted by the evilest in the world, the more I realize that loving from a distance is the safest for everyone. At this point I am hesitant to even see her, it has been so long and I have changed so much.”

Gretchen inhaled and opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted when Phoebe burst into the front door, a splash of crimson across her overalls. “Hey, Ma! I have to run to town to grab some gesso. Do you need me to grab anything?”

“I don’t need anything. Seven?”

She shook her head. “I require nothing.”

“I’ll be back later! Don’t wait up!”

The screen door slammed shut, breaking the moment between them. Gretchen dished up their breakfast and set it at the table. 

“Sit. Eat. All of it. I know it’s not my business, but I still can’t get the picture of you looking so sickly when you arrived out of my head.”

Seven apologized. “I am sorry for that. I was not in a good space. I have found that you and Phoebe have been quite good and reminding me that I matter. For that, I am eternally thankful.”

The older woman smiled. “Of course, darling. That’s what we do. It’s the Janeway code of ethics: always leave people fuller and happier than when you found them.”

Seven smiled at that and they entered a comfortable silence. She took this moment to study the matriarch of the Janeway family. It was obvious that she and the Admiral were related. They shared the same stubborn jawline and sweet smile. Oh, how she longed to see that smile just one more time. Suddenly an idea struck her. 

“Do you think I could write to her? I don’t trust Starfleet post. But I wish to let her know that I no longer hold the same bitterness I did many years ago. What do you suggest?

“I can send some things for you. However, I think she knows already.”

“She does?”

“I know that you said your memories were hazy. Do you remember her transporting you here?”

“All I can recall is being very cold and collapsing in the mud. I felt suffocated and then pleasant, warm safety.”

“She’s the one who found you. You know?”

“In the field?”

“Yes. You had been there for six days. She thought you were dead at first.” Gretchen shook her head. “When she brought you here, your lips were blue and your skin was burned. You were a wreck. She just kept repeating that she loved you. I have never seen my daughter so anxious. Not even when she told her father about her first boyfriend. It takes a lot to shake a Janeway, but boy she was frazzled.”

Seven squinted, trying to recall a partial memory she had. “Did she sit with me in the bath?”

“Yes. I helped her place you in the downstairs bathtub. You were so cold that even lukewarm water made you cry out. To warm you up, she sat in cold water, hugging your half-alive body to herself and crying. All she could do was run her fingers over your ribs and cry at how weak you were. As a mother, I was heartbroken for my daughter. As a wife, I understood the pain. I still don’t know why she refuses to see you, I know not to ask. My daughter is a private person, she will tell me when it’s time.”

“I, I have no words to convey what I am feeling.” Seven looked up, lost. “I fear that I may not be as human as I thought myself to be. Feelings are still quite new to me.”

“Sometimes that happens, honey. It’s a perk of being human, not a punishment. No one here will tell you that you’re not human enough. You are enough.”

Seven began to cry softly at the validation. “I do not enjoy this aspect of humanity.”

“I don’t either. Have you ever made chocolate chip cookies?”

Seven was briefly confused at the sudden change in topic. “I have not.”

“Well, let’s do that today. Kathryn used to make cookies when she needed to focus. Something about the guidance of a recipe but the freedom to assemble however she wanted usually helped to take her mind off things. It’s messy yet precise, something I think you would enjoy.”

“I would like that.”

-x-

Seven’s tablet beeped, something she hadn’t heard in a while. She hadn’t been avoiding her friends at all, she just needed time to decompress from the whirlwind of the last few years. Months without hearing about shipyards, the Federation, or fleet gossip had been healthy for her. Now, she found herself missing a piece of it. 

She checked the screen and saw that B’Elanna was calling her. For a moment she debated on if she was ready to talk to her friend. Eventually, she answered and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. 

“Kahless, you look so good,” B’Elanna’s eyes watered immediately. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

“I-”

“Don’t you dare apologize! It’s on me. I almost lead you to death and I hate myself for it.” the tears eventually spilled from her friend.

“That is unnecessary. I hold no grudges.” Seven smiled a genuine smile. “I am happy here. I have missed you greatly.”

“I’ve missed you! You do look really good. You’re so tan!”

“I have been spending a lot of time outside.”

“Are you on the farm?”

Seven blanched and opened her mouth to shush her friend.

“Don’t worry. Secure channel. I made sure.”

“Oh.” she relaxed. “Then, yes I am. It’s been a cathartic experience.”

“I can tell. I wanted to see your face. We all got a secured communique explaining that you were safe. But, part of me needed to see you.”

“Communique from whom?”

“You know who.” B’Elanna winked. “She looks great, man. She came to Miral’s birthday. She looked _good._ By the way, Miral’s fifteen years old!”

Seven ignored the comment about Janeway’s appearance and gasped. “Fifteen? How?”

“It’s nuts! Mehir hit a growth spurt! He’s almost taller than me!”

Seven sighed. “I miss them.”

“They miss you. You know you’re always welcome here. Tom is retiring soon. He’s got a few more months until he’s promoted, but I see it happening soon.”

“Perhaps I will take you up on that offer. I need a little more time here though. They’ve been so good to me.”

“Can I tell you a secret? One that may or may not upset you?”

“I suppose.”

“Janeway hasn’t had a single partner since we landed. Fifteen years in a cold, lonely bed.” B’Elanna nodded solemnly. “We might have gotten her a little drunk on Bjorian wine and played twenty questions.”

“I...cannot say the same thing,” Seven admitted. “I feel wrong about it. I am terrified of intimacy. I feel so dirty all of the time. Bj-”

“No! She doesn’t get to be in our conversation! She’s taken so much from you, she doesn’t get this too.”

“Understood.”

“She violated you. Took away your autonomy. Used your sweet, sweet adoration against you. She gets no power here.” B’Elanna’s face softened after her outburst. “Now, stand up. Show me what you’re wearing. Borg! Why are you so hot in everything? You make county bumpkin sexy!”

Seven laughed, the sound coming from deep within. It shook her frame and made joyous tears leak from her eyes. “Oh, how I’ve missed you, B’Elanna. I have no idea what a ‘country bumpkin’ is, but I will make sure to ask Phoebe.”

“Oh, you have no idea how much we miss you. Now that I know you’re safe. Do you promise to keep in touch?”

Seven smiled at her friend. “I will comply.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm such a sucker for the Janeways. They're like the zany family you only see on Christmas. I think Seven needed them.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all i think im kind of in love with Phoebe janeway.

_The other night dear, as I lay sleeping_

_I dreamed I held you in my arms_

_-2394-_

“Hey, Seven?”

The chirpy voice of Phoebe Janeway startled her out of her reverie. She had entered the comfortably warm autumn morning in a curious mood. Lots of introspection and remembering had taken up most of her day. Memories long buried had been unearthed and replanted while she drove the riding mower in an imprecise pattern. The front lawn had been trimmed while she reminisced about just how much she had changed since she stepped foot on Earth nearly sixteen years ago. She had no idea how long she sat on the mower, but the discomfort of her burned skin indicated it had been too long. 

Sunshine enveloped every acre of the Janeway farm, the rustic property looked exactly like the paintings that hung in hotels all over the galaxy. She understood why the Admiral had always spoken with such pride about this pocket of the midwest. Last autumn, Seven had been too focused on gathering her bearings to appreciate her surroundings. Now, she was in a place to truly enjoy what the property had to offer. 

The youngest Janeway had presented her with a glass of what seemed to be lavender lemonade. She slid off the mower and grimaced as the muscles in her thighs protested.

She accepted the glass and looked at Phoebe curiously. “Yes?”

“Well,” Phoebe started shyly, her toes swishing back and forth in the grass. Seven noticed that she had decided to forego socks and wore simple white cloth shoes. “I have some things for you. One thing in particular that I think you’ll be pretty interested in.”

Seven motioned to the porch swing that hung in the shade. Phoebe nodded and soon they were being rocked back and forth by Seven’s leg. Phoebe turned sideways on the swing and sat cross-legged, a stack of papers and a small box in her lap. 

“First, I just wanted to show you some photos of Kathryn. I know she’s a badass Admiral that everyone respects. But, underneath those layers, she’s so different. I know you’ve seen the real her.”

“I believe that I have, many years ago. I am most grateful for it. She is one of the most deceptively complex people that I know. I will cherish the times she bared herself to me.”

“I don’t wanna hear about her baring anything,” Phoebe chuckled. “I did get her letters, remember? She talked about you all the time. I wanted to do something for you since she can’t right now.” 

Steady hands, covered in paint and homestead dirt, handed Seven two photographs. 

Seven’s heart swelled with unmitigated joy. They were precious! One showed a teenage Kathryn, an energy cloud of red hair and bright white teeth. She beamed at the camera, dressed in exploration gear. It reminded Seven of the story about Janeway meeting one of her biggest inspirations: Amelia Earheart. 

Janeway telling her all about that adventure was one of the best memories Seven had. It was also one of the first times they’d talked well into the night. They sat a little too close on the Captain’s couch and sipped on spiced tea. The moment those steely eyes had begun to recount the adventure, Seven had been rendered almost dizzy. It was one of the first times she knew that her feelings towards Kathryn had been more than a simple friendship. Oh, the memories that a simple picture could trigger.

The photograph showed a side of Janeway that Seven had only seen a few times. 

The second glossy photograph was a mystery to her. This photo seemed to be newer. It was Gretchen, Phoebe, and Kathryn all standing in front of an older-looking Starfleet Command building. The fountain and flowers hadn’t changed one bit.

“That’s the day she was given Voyager. Look at how proud she is. I wish I had told her back then just how great she was doing. I was too busy being jealous of her accomplishments. ” Phoebe admitted. “She worked her ass off for it too.”

“You’re a very talented artist, the two careers don’t compare,” Seven said sternly. “The way you two work on opposite ends of the spectrum, yet still are so very similar, boggles me.”

“Do you have any siblings?”

“I have none. I suppose the collective could be considered sibling-like. But no, I have no family. Well, an estranged Aunt. But I haven’t spoken to her in years.” Seven swiveled to match Phoebe’s cross-legged position. “What’s in the box?”

Phoebe smiled. “I can’t claim this one. She asked me to give these to you. I don’t know why.” She handed the wooden box to Seven. 

It was sturdy but very light. Obviously handmade, almost like the boxes Icheb had made. This one was beautifully stained and made of a healthy wood. She pressed her fingers into the ornate brass lock and gasped when it popped open. She lifted it with youthful curiosity and took a few moments to appreciate the handiwork that had gone into it. Once she opened the box and revealed its contents, she was struck with so much emotion, that she forgot to breathe. 

Inside, nestled in between oceanic royal waves of blue velvet, were four pips, lined up like pews in a church. They were polished, freshly replicated before being hidden away. They represented so much for Janeway, and almost more for Seven. They were beautiful.

“You realize that’s about as close to an engagement ring you’ll ever get?” Phoebe cried out, her hands waving enthusiastically over her head. “She’s already married to Starfleet. This is just the next step!”

“It does seem that way,” Seven cleared her throat. “What does this all mean?”

“I guess she hoped it would remind you that under all those staunchy, emotionless layers, she’s still vulnerable. She’s a woman who’s had her fair share of heartbreak too. I’m not making excuses for anything she may have done. In all honesty? I don’t know much about her relationship with you. But, what I can tell you is when she called us for Easter, she kept looking behind us to see if you would walk in.”

“Was that when I had traveled to attend a birthday party?” 

“Yeah. Her face when I said you weren’t there was worse than when Molly thinks we’re opening treats. I don’t like to think of my sister’s love life. But, maybe the next time she comes around you could be here too?” Phoebe asked gently. “If you wanna?”

“I will think about it.” Seven turned again and let her legs dangle over the edge of the swing. “I long desperately to see her, hold her. But, a part of me still hurts. I understand her reasoning, and I’m thankful for her self-discipline.”

“Why so?”

“Because if it were up to me, I would have loved her and died young. I used to criticize the humans onboard Voyager when I was first severed. I called them erratic, conflicted, overly emotional. Well, turns out I’m human too. I am all of those things where she’s involved.”

“Well, maybe that’s what you needed to learn all along?”

“That I have an emotional blind spot wherever your sister is?” Seven joked in self-deprecation. 

“No, silly. That you’re just as human as the rest of us.”

Seven smiled and looked down into her lap. The creak of the swing cried in tune with the cicadas off in the distance. The sun had begun to set, which meant the backyard mowing would need to be postponed. She was just as content to sit with the youngest Janeway and simply _exist._

“She promised to take me here, you know?” Seven admitted, staring towards the setting sun. Lightning bugs started appearing all around them. It felt safe, like a home. “It could have been under duress given the fact that I was dying. The smile that she had while talking about ‘Bloomington, Indiana’ was infectious. I vowed that day to bear witness to that smile again. I cannot call my life fulfilled until I see it once more.”

Phoebe giggled at Seven’s impersonation of her sister. “You know, you have that same smile when we talk about her.”

Seven blushed and stared at her lap once again, unable to stop the spread of a grin. “I am aware. It is...embarrassing.”

“No! It’s so cute!” the youngest Janeway grabbed her hands in her lap and shook them. “Please don’t stop smiling like that. It reminds me that true love does exist.”

“We aren’t together, you forget. She made it explicitly clear that it could not happen.” 

“Did you ever ask why?”

Seven sighed and looked out at the farm. A small honeybee flew in front of her, hovered, and took off towards the flowers. “Many times. I was always told that I was not privy to the information and that I needed to trust her.”

“You don’t sound angry about that. I think I would be angry.” 

Seven waved her hands around gently as she explained. “I held that anger in for a very long time. I still have it. As I’ve gotten older and lost many things dear to me, I see what she did. I no longer have ill-will towards her. Does it sting? Of course. Sometimes it feels that Starfleet robbed me of every chance of happiness I could ever have. I think you may understand that to a degree?”

Phoebe nodded. “I do.”

“On the other hand, Starfleet gave her to me. They trained her and nurtured her so by the time I encountered her, she was ready to do the same for me.”

“They didn’t love her, though. Not like she loves you.”

“And I, her. Kathryn Janeway is one of the proudest people I have encountered. While that would usually be a negative characteristic, I truly believe it is what makes her so unique, so formidable. She is prideful, not only of herself but of those around her. She could coach and lead with such a sense of dignity. She instilled in us a certain brand of self-worth that we needed to thrive. I am not explaining this very well.”

“I think you are,” Phoebe encouraged with watery eyes. “I can feel how much you love her. I can feel how much she loves you. You are the star-crossed lovers: doomed to love no one else but also doomed to be apart. It’s kind of romantic.”

“It is...less romantic when you are one of the lovers.” Seven took a deep breath and exhaled slowly to calm herself down. “I already explained to your mother that we are Sun and Moon. Unable to co-exist, but necessary for each other’s function.”

“But Seven, haven’t you noticed that sometimes when the sun comes up, the moon hangs around for just a little bit?”

Seven looked upwards at the wooden planked porch roof to avoid crying. “I do. It reminds of me when she would watch me as I regenerated overnight.”

“Based on the context of this conversation, that’s ridiculously adorable. To anyone else, it’s probably pretty creepy.”

“I see your point,” Seven chuckled. “But I loved it all the same.”

They sat like that just swinging back and forth enjoying the hazy dusk that had settled around them. Once the swing started to dig into the back of Seven’s thighs, she knew she needed to get ready for bed. 

“You’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” Phoebe asked quietly. “I can feel it.”

Seven regarded her carefully. It had surprised her that she had been that transparent. She had not been ready to explain her decision to anyone. 

“Perhaps. I have yet to decide,” Seven admitted. “I’m so very grateful. I feel as if I’m finally free of those awful years of my life. I just want to live. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore it here. But, there are so many human experiences I haven’t had.”

“I knew it,” Phoebe’s voice took on a more juvenile tone. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Who’s to say I’ll never return? I will miss your mother’s lemonade and fritters!”

“Hey!” 

“Oh,” Seven laughed as she stood and swatted gently at Phoebe’s shoulder. “And I’ll miss you. Quite a bit.”

“Damn straight.”

-x-

Later that night, after she had brushed her teeth and combed out her hair. Seven sat on her bed, clutching the two photographs that Phoebe had shown her. She traced the face of a bright-eyed Janeway, so eager to command her first ship. She wondered if the fresh-faced Captain had even considered that she would soon fly a starship filled with more diversity than Neelix’s spice cabinet. That she would be stranded so far from home? That she would change the lives of more than one hundred and fifty people? That she would be so important to one ex-drone?

She missed Kathryn considerably, even in a platonic sense. Her simple presence made things just seem so much easier. She had been such a touchstone of comfort to Seven, especially as she grew into her humanity. Would the Admiral be proud of the woman Seven had become? Or, would she turn up a corner of her mouth as she did when she was unimpressed? 

She opened the box once more and tapped each on the pips lovingly. She closed the box, set it on her nightstand, and set the photographs on top. For a day that had started with such deep feelings, the night had ended with a euphoria that was very similar to the feeling of a first kiss. Blissful ambivalence had taken over all of her thoughts and the only thing she could focus on was the incredibly attractive face of the woman she loved so deeply. 

Either way, it was almost certain that the next time she saw Admiral Kathryn Janeway, it would be the single greatest moment of her life. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This where we diverge from canon. It's similar though. I'm sorry if it seems like I breezed past the Picard-era stuff! I promise that it will make sense! Ahh! We are so close!

_You are my sunshine, my only sunshine_

_You make me happy when skies are gray_

_-2395-_

  
  


She stepped off the transport pad and waved briefly to the people running it. They nodded in return and turned back to their duties. She turned towards her town and gave it a look of appreciation. It turned out that adding a transport location was not the only thing the small New Mexico area had changed. Where there used to be quiet sidewalks and small shops, now had groups of people and brightly-lit stores. The change left a strange feeling in her stomach. She did appreciate the transporter, though it would have made life a little easier for everyone involved with her multiple rescues. But, it also took away from the small, tucked away aspect that she held so dear. 

With a fondness, she patted her trusty duffel bag. This time it held no alcohol but was stuffed with loaves of Gretchen’s lavender sweet bread. Even though she had some pretty terrible memories there, it felt good to be home. Seven started up the big hill that would take her towards her home. As she walked on the side of the road, she thought of all the times she had traveled this same path. In essence, she was the same. There were some crucial differences though. Her tactical garb had been replaced with practical denim and cotton. Her hair had lightened and gotten much longer, and her skin tanned from all the hours in the sun.

Looking around, she was troubled to not see any of her favorite neighbors. Some of their houses were dark, some looked completely different. No dogs were playing and no shrieks of kids playing. Her town had changed, and it was a little hard to accept. 

Well, that’s what happened after years away. Things changed. She sure had. 

Indiana had been a reset of sorts. She felt lighter, even though she had added bulk to her frame. A combination of farm labor and midwestern cuisine had graciously softened some of her edges. She felt strong, powerful. It had been so long since she felt healthy and alive. She owed a lot of that to the Janeway women. When she had first arrived, she could barely feed herself without trembling, now she was hauling hay bales for minutes at a time. 

Gretchen had fed and mothered her. Phoebe had made her feel safe and explained so many things to her. Kathryn had sent her there in the first place. She had transformed into a whole, complete person. A human. 

Granted, metallic implants still covered her body. But, she _understood_ things now. For so long she assumed that she was a lost cause, that her critical periods for socialization had long passed. She made jokes - ones that people laughed at. People sought her out for advice. Mehir and Miral called her “Aunt Seven” and B’Elanna called her “friend”. It was all so perfect. 

Too perfect. 

Seven still carried a lot of guilt over Icheb. While his name no longer made her panic, she still had moments when it seemed almost cruel to be alive in a world where he was not. When the nights were lonely, she had nightmares about Icheb calling her name. He would reach out for her from his despondent spot on the medical bed. He would cry out for her, curse her name. Tell her all kinds of awful things. 

That she was no mother. 

That everyone would leave her.

That his death was her fault. 

That she didn’t deserve to have a family.

Some of the nightmares kept her awake for days. 

There was one trauma that she refused to unpack, and that was the violation of her body by Bjayzl. It almost seemed pointless, given that she couldn’t fix it. Phoebe had tried to get her to talk about it, but it seemed too personal to even broach. B’Elanna understood and did not pry, even though Seven could tell her friend was very curious. It was easier for everyone involved if she just ignored it. 

She made it to the top of the hill and smiled at the sight of her perfect little home. The relationship she held with her property could not be described as healthy. She knew she should have sold it as soon as Bjayzl’s goons had tried to kill her. But, the home represented one of the first decisions she had made as an independent adult. Not that she wasn’t those things already, but it was the first major decision she had made without consultation. It had become her haven. 

Besides, Icheb’s room was still there - same as the day he’d left it. Trophies and diplomas still hung on the eggshell white walls. She couldn’t bring herself to take anything down. Even though it was obvious that she wasn’t going to be using that room anytime soon. It hurt to go through. Maybe she would sleep in his bed tonight, just once. Tomorrow, she could decide if she wanted to change anything about it. 

The house, in all its 2000 square foot glory, had not been empty the entire time she’d been in Indiana. She’d given keys to all of her former crewmates, with the verbal agreement that they could use it anytime. They had all given her updates on the new technology they had installed while staying there. She didn’t mind, especially when Harry had added a miniature alcove behind her living room couch. Tom had also apparently added a 1950s era television to the mix. Even the Doctor and his new girlfriend had vacationed there before their wedding. 

She trotted into her yard and stepped over her overgrown garden. Seven picked up the flower pot and panicked when her keys weren’t there. She checked under other pots and even one of her decorative rocks and found nothing. She went around back to the small shed and pulled open the door. 

Nothing. Just her old bicycle and a few toys that Mehir had stored there. 

She went around the front again and peeked into the windows. Everything seemed to be in place. Curious, she tried the front door hand and grunted when it swung open. Why was the front door open but the key missing? Also, why hadn’t she tried that first?

She braced herself in case there was an intruder. Not armed but not exactly helpless, Seven scanned every inch of every room and decided that it was empty. It didn’t seem like anyone had been there. The art on the wall was in place, her yoga mat sat untouched, and even Chakotay’s boxing gloves hung on the wall where she’d left them. 

Quietly, she made her way inside. Deep-seated anxiety that she hadn’t felt in years permeated every inch of her body. Someone had been in her home recently. Maybe it had been one of the boys and they’d forgotten to leave the key. Or, she’d been the victim of a plain old robbery. How strange that robbery was the best-case scenario. 

She checked the pantry and was impressed. Even all of her dry goods were in place. The refrigerator would be left for another day. Seven reached into the cupboard and pulled out a package of snack crackers - obviously leftover from one of Tom’s vacations. She popped a few into her mouth and munched in silence. She was still uncomfortable, but at least she wasn’t in imminent danger. 

Her tablet vibrated from her bag on the floor and Seven rose to grab it. She brought it back to the table and opened it.

An audio-only channel was trying to connect with her. Curiosity overcame her, so she answered it as well.

“State your intentions,” Seven demanded, surprised by the rigidity of her voice. She hadn’t spoken like that in years. 

“Seven?” she recognized that voice. “Please help us.”

“Miral?” she asked quietly. Ice cold panic flowed through her veins. 

“She’s got us!” 

“Who? Who has you? Are you hurt?”

“Mom’s bleeding! They took Dad! Hurry!”

“Where are you?”

“Freecloud!”

-x-

After a panicky transport to the North to hijack the Fairhaven from the secret garage on the Paris-Torres residence, Seven had set a course for Freecloud. About three days into the journey, she stumbled into the presence of one Jean-Luc Picard. Running on fumes, Seven had nearly been blown to bits right before transporting onto his vessel. 

The crew had looked at her with an expected surprise. None of them looked familiar, but that didn’t stop her from acknowledging them right before she fainted. 

When she woke in the sickbay of La Sirena, Picard had been at her side. They chatted about what each other had been doing since departing Starfleet. She promised to try his wine, he asked for her cookie recipe. Too quickly it had come down to business and the discussion soured. Picard inadvertently offended her by regarding her work with the Fenris Rangers as meddlesome. To soften the blow, he’d expressed his deepest sympathies in regards to Icheb. He understood what it meant to be separated from the collective. For a moment, Seven wondered if Bjayzl knew Picard had been assimilated as well. 

It was then that he’d been called to the bridge and their conversation paused for later. Seven laid in the bed for hours, wondering if her friends were okay. 

Several hours later, Seven woke to a young Romulan man offering her some food. She accepted it and tried to desperately push away the guilty feelings over Icheb. It wasn’t his fault that every young man reminded her of him. He introduced himself as Elnor and quietly left her room.

Unable to lay in the bed a minute longer, Seven had begun to take in her surroundings. She eventually walked back towards the bridge and stopped dead in her tracks when one of the crew spoke a name that sent lightning bolts down her spine. 

Bjayzl.

Upon hearing her name, Seven had cried out and stopped all conversion on the bridge. Raffi, a kind woman with tight curls that bounced when she smiled, asked if she was alright. After gathering herself, Seven explained to them all just why she hated the woman so much. She could tell that the Raffi had things she wished to say but kept them quiet. 

Immediately after her story, the crew began to plot how to capture Bjayzl and transport her to Starfleet headquarters to be tried for her crimes. Seven explained that the woman had seemingly kidnapped her friends and was holding them on Freecloud. 

The fact that these strangers knew so little of her but offered so much, meant the world to her. Being Borg bait was not something she was particularly fond of, but it seemed to be the best course of action. 

So, with extravagant attire and Seven in handcuffs, the crew set off to try and catch Bjayzl in her own game. 

The mission had overall been executed pretty well. Everything had gone off without a hitch until the moment the hood had been ripped from Seven’s head. The moment she made eye contact with the woman who had made her life a living hell, something shifted. It wasn’t a palpable shift. Moreso, the room became a little brighter and Seven’s senses heightened to a place they hadn’t been since she had been a drone. 

Bjayzl, still unfairly beautiful for someone with the ugliest of souls, had aged. Not badly, no not at all. But the fire, the passionate hatred that had been in her eyes, was gone. She seemed unenthused. Seven understood the feeling, it was mutual. They were both tired. 

The power dynamic between them had shifted and Seven felt it in her weary bones. Bjayzl had even called her “Annika” in the syrupy sweet way she had when beckoning her to bed. The entertainers and patrons dissolved out, leaving Bjayzl alone with her guard.

Elnor, who looked like Icheb had on his first away mission, only had to fire once before the Beta Annari exploded into a bloody mass on the carpeted floor. Seven broke out of her handcuffs and slapped them on Bjayzl before her guard had even finished dissolving. 

Seven then stood toe-to-toe with Bjayzl and looked directly into the smoky, mysterious eyes. The passion that was there surfaced, along with years of pent up rage. Sorrow was then added to the mix and Seven did something that surprised everyone, including herself. 

She kissed her. 

It wasn’t a kiss of passion, it was a victim taking back her power. It was a goodbye, so long, farewell. 

It was then that Bjayzl, the butcher of Borg and killer of sons, began to crumble. Her body sagged and she fell backwards into the chair behind her.

Seven saw this weakness and preyed upon it, demanding to know where her friends were. When Bjayzl wouldn’t say, she backhanded her. Blood trickled from the woman’s mouth and she eventually caved. 

That’s when Seven received news that made her stand back and shake her head. 

Tom, B’Elanna, and the kids been taken directly out of the basement of the lounge. Either they had escaped, or they’d been rescued by someone very sneaky.

The very same basement where Seven had been dealt the final blow that still haunted her. Where she’d been strung up like a puppet and taken apart like a child’s game. Bjayzl seemed most disappointed that her last bargaining chip had disappeared under her nose 

Seven was almost manic with anxiety. Picard, who looked bewildered and wildly uncomfortable, flipped his eye patch up and stared between them. 

Seven, unwilling to have the conversation in front of everyone, simply sedated Bjayzl and initiated the transport. 

Once they had transported back to the ship, they quickly set a course for Earth. Picard had sent her to the guest quarters to rest, while the rest of the crew stayed to watch over Bjayzl. 

About three hours later, a gentle knock had roused her. Raffi had appeared with a bottle of bourbon and two shot glasses in tow. 

They clinked their glasses and talked about family, addiction, and the stubbornness of Starship Captains. Raffi had explained her troubled past with her son, and Seven had returned the favor by telling the tender woman all about Icheb. 

They had both cried, laughed, and even flirted. Just a little though. Seven did still have an Admiral to pine over. 

-x-

Five days later, they broke Earth’s atmosphere and prepared to dock the small vessel in the guest bay at Starfleet headquarters. They’d been hailed a few hours earlier, and the reaction from the brass at Picard’s face was priceless. Seven stood back, out of view, and peeked around a piece of plastic to see if she could see Janeway’s face. 

The Admiral was nowhere to be found.

-x-

As soon as they docked with a drowsy Bjayzl in tow, the group was met with Starfleet security officers that Seven was not familiar with. The Admiral at the head of the group, Alynna Nechayev, had cooly introduced herself to the crew and promptly disappeared. They’d been led into the back of the headquarters and through a series of underground tubes. They passed by a lot of empty rooms and sat in what looked to be the booking room for a brig. 

Almost as soon as they’d made it into the headquarters, they were separated and led to different rooms. Seven sat in a very uncomfortable orange plastic chair and constantly changed her positioning until she gave up and decided to pace the room instead. 

After about an hour, the door to her room was thrown open with such force that the plastic panes of the window shook. The Admiral was back and looking increasingly more uncomfortable as the seconds ticked on. 

“Am I being charged with something?” Seven asked. “I would like to leave.”

“Home to where? The Borg?” Nechayev sneered. “I could arrange that.”

“I am no longer Borg - you should know that.” Seven remained cool. 

“Ha!” the Admiral shouted. “You want to tell me what I should know? Let me tell you something, Seven of Nine!”

She shot out of her chair and leaned over the table, staring directly into her eyes. Seven was not frightened, but she was cautious. Something about the woman seemed familiar but she could not place her. She also seemed unhinged, as if she were teetering on sanity. 

“Were you at Wolf 359?”

“I was not. However, I do retain the memories of the battle. I am...sorry,” Seven offered. She began to understand the woman’s hostility towards her. “Too many lives were lost for nothing.”

“I lost so much there,” the Admiral growled. “You have no idea!”

Suddenly, it all made sense. The voice, the growl. It clicked into place, stoking the fire that brewed in her belly. 

“You set me up!” Seven cried, jumping out of the chair. It clattered to the floor and bounced away. “You’re the one with the holograms. I almost _died_! For what?”

“You got me.” she shrugged. “I wouldn’t have killed you or anything like that.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Seven snarled. “You knew that those boys meant so much to me. Especially after losing my son!”

“No one mourns a dead _Borg_ here!”

Before anything could escalate, a knock broke the moment. The door opened to reveal Tuvok with a hand in the air. 

“Admiral. You’ve been paged a few times but I fear your comm has been left on your desk,” he relayed with no emotion. He then turned to Seven and nodded to her. “Your group is waiting.”

Without even a glance in her direction, the Admiral stood and marched out of the room. Once she left, Seven jerked her head to the side in a silent plea. Tuvok stepped forward into the room and regarded her carefully. 

“I am glad to see you. It had been too long,” Tuvok placed a hand on her shoulder. “You look well. Humanity suits you.”

“I am so glad to see a friendly face. Was she actually paged?” Seven asked. “I’ve never met her until today. She lured me years ago!”

“She did not. Once I was informed that a group of ex-Starfleet officers including Jean-Luc Picard and Seven of Nine, were coming with Bjayzl I knew that she would try and corner you. We must go, there’s little time.” Tuvok led her to the door. “We are currently deep under headquarters, not many know these tubes exist.”

“What will happen to Bjayzl?” Seven asked, a little more vulnerable than planned.

“She will be tried in Federation court. I can assure you that her capture will be celebrated by many here. Quite a few of the cadets have been tasked with assisting former drones with acclimation.”

She was moved by that. For too long she had been ostracized and targeted for her connection to the collective. It felt strange to know that other drones were being severed and reintegrated. 

“Who’s leading _that_ project?” She asked.

“I believe you already know,” Tuvok replied. “She has spearheaded the reclamation of drones. It caused a large rift within Starfleet. Many people hold hostility towards the ex-drones, even though they have been properly vetted and integrated. So far we have about six hundred or so that have been saved. We estimate over six thousand in the next five years.”

Seven was floored. “That’s so many!”

“If she were here, I believe the Admiral would say she had you to thank for the insight provided to her.”

“Where is she?” Seven asked. “I won’t ask to see her. But she wasn’t present when we were hailed.”

“I cannot tell you. I can only mention that she is safe and Miral says ‘Hello’”,” Tuvok explained, his eyes still forward as they navigated the tunnels. 

“I understand,” Seven nodded. “You guys got them out of there and they’re staying with her. I’m glad they’re all safe. By the way, I thought you were teaching?”

“I was. When Admiral Janeway took a leave of absence, she had a few minor adjustments made. I have been temporarily reassigned to security until she says otherwise.”

Seven was curious. “When did you get reassigned?”

Tuvok, in all his credit, tried to remain impassive. But, Seven caught the side of his mouth lift while his eyes twinkled. 

“About an hour after we got wind of your impending arrival.”

Seven smiled and looked towards the ground. Even though it had been years since they had spoken face to face, it still warmed her heart to know that Janeway was still looking out for her. It also helped to know that wherever the Admiral currently was, that she had her friends with her. 

They turned a corner and suddenly she was reunited with the crew. Elnor, who had obviously been crying, threw his arms around her. Raffi walked over and took a hand in hers. The rest of the group joined in the group hug and for the first time in a long time, Seven felt secure. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive me for moving past the remaining years at warp speed. EEEEE! We're almost done! I'm so excited!

_You'll never know dear, how much I love you_   
_Please don't take my sunshine away_

-2396-

Seven kept her head down as she walked through a terminal at Deep Space 9. Large groups of people were unsettling, so she avoided them habitually. Today had been incredibly rough for all of them, and it showed. Shoulders were slumped, and bleary eyes blinked away sleep. Today, early in the afternoon, Bjayzl had been judged by the Federation High Court. The jury had been deliberating for hours and the public was anxiously awaiting the decision. Seven had been called to testify, though she refused to show her face. It had been strangely similar to a Starfleet debriefing. Too many uniforms asking her many questions in a deliberate attempt to confuse her. 

After giving her testimony in a private room, she had been released. Picard tried valiantly to get her to stay and watch the trial live, but Seven wanted to put as much distance between her and Bjayzl as she could. Just seeing the woman’s face lit an angry fire in her belly. She and the crew left as soon as they could and set a course for Earth.   
  


Once they had docked to refuel, they had all decided on a light lunch. On the way back, Seven caught the headline on the news. Speechless, she pointed to the screen, her finger trembling in the air. There were no words to describe the relief she felt. The only noises coming from her were small gasps of disbelief. Surrounded by strangers, she fell to her knees in the middle of the room and cried. 

Bjayzl had been found guilty of all charges and would be sentenced to live in the same facility that Tom Paris had been plucked from years prior. 

It was a start. 

_Finally_. 

Relief passed through her in waves. With each sob, she gained a sense of peace. Eventually, the crowd dissipated, and only the crew of _La Sirena_ remained. She looked at her people and began to laugh. Why she decided to laugh, she did not know. But in the moment it felt right.

Raffi grabbed her in an embrace so tight, she felt lightheaded. They shared a small moment in front of the whole terminal. Public affection without shame attached was still new to her. Given that all of her relationships had been dysfunctional, Seven was surprised to find how easy it came. Her relationship with Raffi was easygoing, casual. Less of a partnership, more of an affectionate friend. It was exactly what she needed. 

They were both still so traumatized from their pasts, that neither was comfortable with more than simple intimacy. A “heavy second base” as Tom would call it. Seven knew that their relationship dynamic was something most people wouldn’t be able to understand. But it didn’t matter to her.

While it was incredibly fun, they both knew it wouldn’t last. Seven would always be in love with Janeway whereas Raffi didn’t even want commitment. The time constraint didn’t bother them. They enjoyed each other’s company in any capacity. 

-2397-

A couple of months into the year, they landed near one of the rivers on Betazed for a few days of respite. They were all ragged after a particularly wretched first encounter with a species not even the Borg had met. Not only were they incredibly skilled fighters, but the strange aliens also possessed holographic technology that surpassed anything the crew had.

Raffi took most of the psychological damage when one of the aliens conjured up a hologram that was a replica of her son. The hologram said insidious things that brought the First Officer to the brink of insanity. Afterward, Raffi refused to speak to anyone, including Seven. 

While on Betazed Raffi found a Betazoid named Mila who immediately captured her heart. The duo became an instant pair and embarked on a whirlwind romance. Seven watched from afar, proud of Raffi for putting herself out there. There were no hard feelings and no animosity. When their leave was up, the crew of _La Sirena_ had gained one. Mila, a soft-spoken brunette with big brown eyes and a giggle like a whisper, fell into everyone’s good graces instantaneously. 

Even Raffi laughed when Picard made an offhand statement about it feeling like an actual starship now that the crew had added a Betazoid. 

It became increasingly obvious as time went on that everyone wanted to continue with their lives. Their missions were completed and the ship needed complicated repairs. None of them said it outright in fear of disrespecting Picard, but it was evident that everyone was restless. Eventually, he figured it out and offered them all a truce: they would disband at the end of the year if they all agreed to reunite again soon. 

So, not much later, Rios dropped them all off where they needed to go and dashed away to a nearby planet with Agnes by his side. 

Elnor begged to stay with Seven, to which she agreed. Together they traveled back to New Mexico. He told her about his relationship to Picard and in turn, Seven shared stories of being severed from the Borg. Having someone in the house took a bit of adjustment. Seven often found herself calling him Icheb. Elnor took it all in stride and never once complained. He slept on the couch and helped around the house. For a while, he had a job at one of the farms a few miles away and had been learning how to wrangle cattle. 

When winter came about, and the home took on a subtle chill, Seven made the tough decision to pack up Icheb’s room. It wasn’t fair to make Elnor sleep in the living room. He needed privacy, somewhere safe. A room would show him that she welcomed him long term. She remembered how detached she felt in the cargo bay and hoped that Elnor did not feel the same way. 

The next day, while Elnor was at the farm, Seven disassembled the room piece by piece. What at one point seemed too painful to even speak of, had actually been fairly easy. Halfway through storing Icheb’s trophies, Seven realized that she had already made peace with Icheb’s death. She had no recollection of it happening, it just _happened_. That night, Elnor came home covered in dirt and leaves, his eyes sparkling with boyish joy over some story about a goat. When she showed him the room, with his sword and belongings hanging from the walls, he broke down and cried in her arms. It was then that she realized that, similarly to her, he just wanted someplace to call home.

-2398-

Tom and B’Elanna, who had long forgiven her for the destruction of their ship, called her one morning at the beginning of the new year. Both of them had been crying, which worried Seven. But, to her surprise, they told her that Miral, who had graduated a few years prior, had received her first commission aboard a vessel. What made it more special was that she was piloting the _USS Icheb_ , an exploration vessel that would be run by none other than a freshly-promoted Captain Harry Kim. It had been named for the young science officer who had designed the technology that had allowed so many drones to be saved. When Seven had heard the name of the new ship, she had been filled with insurmountable gratitude. Icheb would have been so pleased to know his work had been successful. 

Mehir, who was growing like a weed, had tested out of three grades at school and was set to begin studying for his very own Starfleet exam. Granted, it wouldn’t be administered until he turned eighteen, but it was still very ambitious. Seven had given him many praises and promised to visit soon. He had come so far from the child who refused to speak more than a single word at a time. It worried her that he might no longer want to play in the sandbox with her when she visited. 

The duo invited Seven and Elnor out to their home to spend a few weeks. But, right before they were set to depart, the weather became erratic. So, Tom, B’Elanna, and a pre-teen Mehir had switched plans and arrived on her doorstep. Having her home filled with people she loved was something she had not realized that missed terribly. She realized that the last time they had all been together in the home was when they had saved her life on Freecloud

Miral stopped by Seven’s home for a day, only to transport out the next morning. The eldest child explained that there were a lot of preparations before she was due to launch. Just like the old days, they took a long walk around the property and talked about all the things Seven had missed while she was incapacitated. It was refreshing to catch up, especially since Miral had been one of the first people Seven was able to watch grow up. She felt a strong bond with the girl, and it pleased her greatly to see her succeed. 

Mehir had taken to Elnor and followed the young man everywhere he went. The pair could generally be spotted out in the backyard, where the lethal fighter was showing the young prodigy how to parry with a stick. When they came in at night, both boys had dirt on their faces and scrapes on their knees. It was refreshing to see Elnor live out his boyhood with someone. 

After bags were packed and hugs divvied out, the tears began to flow. B’Elanna had taken a liking to Elnor and invited him to stay with them for a while. He accepted graciously and left with them the same night. Right before the group departed, Seven pulled her friend aside and thanked her for helping Elnor socialize. B’Elanna only smiled and pulled her into a fierce embrace.

Seven spent the next few days anxiously tidying up. Once the whole house was acceptable, she sat down and attempted to cope with having an empty house once again. About a week into her solitude, she broke and rang up her favorite duo. 

After a lengthy chat, she decided to spend spring and summer with Gretchen and Phoebe. She missed the early mornings and the physical exertion of farm work. Also, Phoebe had a new beau that Seven wanted to meet. Their self-described illicit romance alone had Seven on the front porch of the Janeway farm thirty-six hours later. 

Before she could never knock on the old door, Phoebe launched herself at her and enveloped Seven in one of the most overwhelming embraces she had ever experienced. It was then that realized that visiting the farm would always feel like coming home. 

At the family dinner that night, Phoebe explained that she and Lucas were building their own house about a mile down the road. Lucas was quiet and contemplative. He only spoke when spoken to and had a country twang to his words. After a hearty dinner, the duo excused themselves and bid Seven and Gretchen goodnight. 

Because Phoebe was in the honeymoon stage of her romance, Seven and Gretchen spent most of their time together. Occasionally, Seven would walk into town with Gretchen’s shopping list in hand and browse the markets. Since the youngest Janeway had been tucked away with her boyfriend, Seven filled her place in the home. She felt a sense of belonging that was incredibly foreign to her. Even the most mundane of tasks held new meaning. She was unequivocally a part of the Janeway family, and it felt amazing. 

Occasionally, the older woman would hiss when she walked up the stairs or put a hand to her back after standing so long. Seven tried her best to help the aging woman but was frequently swatted away. She didn’t have much experience with the concept of human aging. There had been resources available to her on _Voyager_ , but it seemed much more complicated in person. 

About halfway through summer, Elnor called her. It was nice to see his face after so many months apart. They talked for hours, and towards the end, he asked if she would spend the fall with him up north with her friends. She agreed, but only after Gretchen busted into her room and threatened bodily harm if she stayed to help her. 

It was obvious that where Janeway had gotten her stubbornness from. 

When the leaves turned orange and the twilight twinkled at dinnertime, Seven packed her meager duffle once again. Gretchen refused to say goodbye and only offered a “see you soon, daughter” to her.

-x-

Before Seven had a chance to step onto the property, Mehir appeared in the window with his face smashed against the glass. Soon after the whole family was smashing their faces into the glass and peering out at her. It sent her into a wave of laugher. She felt so lucky to have such a warm yet silly welcome. 

She spent a few weeks there, enjoying autumn and all its blessings. She and Elnor picked apples and ate them while sitting in the backyard, their bare feet bouncing against the rough, neglected, sandbox. One morning, Tom announced his retirement and B’Elanna added to the news by relaying that she had been promoted to the lead of the Borg Reclamation Project. She boasted that they had surpassed the number of rescued drones and had a near-perfect integration rate. Other planets within the Federation had also shown great success. 

-x-

Right after a nasty rainstorm, B’Elanna and Seven boarded the damp swings in the backyard and chatted about life. Seven told B’Elanna about her time with Picard and B’Elanna gave her a broad overview of the project she was assigned to. She also told Seven all about Miral’s first letter home from space. 

Mehir, who was still mystified by Elnor, cried when they left the home. Seven assured him that he could spend the next summer with them in New Mexico. Elnor then produced a small wooden bokken that he had carved and handed it to Mehir. That seemed to cheer the boy up. 

After leaving the north, Seven and Elnor made an impulsive decision and decided to explore the southwest before heading home. Seven enjoyed the physical exertion of hiking and Elnor took every location in with rapt curiosity. She found it utterly adorable and cherished every minute of it. Sometimes, when Elnor’s eyes twinkled in the moonlight, Seven felt a pressure lift off her chest. She missed Icheb dearly, but she was healing. It was no longer a gaping wound in her soul. Occasionally she would dream about Icheb and Elnor meeting. The boys could not have been more different, yet they always ended up the best of friends. When the rations were gone and the temperatures fell, they finally made their way back to the small house in New Mexico.

Elnor sat her down when winter first began and asked permission to do two things. One, he wanted to go see Picard at the Vineyard. He explained that he missed the man fiercely and wanted to spend as much as he could with him. The second thing was he wanted to go back to Vashti and visit with the Qowat Milat. He admitted that he also missed his home, including the women who had raised him. 

Seven was excited for him, which seemed to surprise Elnor. She reminded him that he was an adult and could do as he pleased. If he wanted to go visit with people, he could. She tried her best to explain that, while he did not need her permission to do things, the occasional check-in was appreciated. 

Then, out of the blue, an invitation from Picard came. He wished for them to spend the holidays with him at his vineyard. A Christmas party, for those who celebrated. Otherwise, a chance to see friends and exchange gifts. They both readily accepted. 

Elnor left the next week to visit Picard before the party and Seven began to make small additions to her home. First, she built a platform for Elnor to practice his fighting skills. Then she built a small obstacle course similar to the one she had with Icheb on Mars. After a solid sleep schedule and regular meals, Seven gained back the muscle she had lost in her years of neglect. 

She was thriving; her body felt good and her mind was clear. The desire to take care of herself now overpowered the urge to give up. It was quite a difference from the husk of partial human she was before.

-x-

Picard’s Christmas party was a success in Seven’s eyes. It was amazing to see all of her friends in one spot. Tom, B’Elanna, and Mehir all showed up, dressed to the nines with matching suits. Picard had taken to Mehir instantaneously and insisted on chatting with him about starships the whole night. Tom made his formal retirement announcement and bowed when the crowd clapped. B’Elanna was quiet about her promotion, which made Seven curious. 

Harry and Miral sent their regards via a short transmission of themselves singing “Auld Lang Syne” which made everyone smile. 

Janeway sent a short video apologizing for her absence and wishing them all a happy holiday season. The moment the Admiral’s face had appeared on the large screen in the middle of the room, Seven’s knees gave out. Elnor caught her by the arms and gave her a confused look. When the video ended, the whole room erupted in applause. Seven was amused at her body’s reaction to Janeway on the screen. 

_She was definitely still attractive._

The image of Janeway in her Admiral uniform, likely handling a mug of hot coffee off-screen, would be stored in her mind forever. Her auburn hair had begun to gray and the sharp jawbone that made Seven’s blood rush had softened minutely, making her seem more settled than before. Life had aged them both, but time could not touch the beauty that surrounded Admiral Kathryn Janeway. 

Elnor, unwilling to leave the topic alone, grilled her all night about the Admiral and more specifically, Seven’s reaction to seeing her. She answered most of the questions as honestly as she could, though some of them were still sensitive topics. He took it all in and embraced her compassionately afterward. He made her promise to introduce them if the opportunity ever arose, to which Seven hesitantly agreed. 

The Doctor arrived with a bubbly blonde on his shoulder. Tom remarked that the woman looked eerily similar to Seven, which made her violently uncomfortable. The Doctor spent most of the party singing carols and playing a very old looking wooden piano in the corner. Occasionally someone would join in, which led to a festive bout of karaoke. His date sat on the edge of the piano bench and watched him with her undivided attention. B’Elanna made a joke about how she wished someone looked at her that way. Tom echoed the sentiment, which led to the pair disappearing upstairs.

Many of her former crew and people she recognized from Picard’s previous commands were mingling, exchanging memories of their pasts. Seven tried her best to maintain the conversations but kept thinking about Janeway’s video. Elnor, bless his heart, had bounced from her to Picard throughout the night, only stopping to talk to Mehir. Seven’s heart warmed every time she heard him laugh at something Mehir had said. It was good to see them bonding. 

As the night began to slow down, Seven began a conversation with the Doctor. He showed her the book of sheet music he was playing from and asked if she would like to sing one song, for “memory’s sake.” She agreed and soon the pair were singing Christmas carols. What started as one song, eventually turned into an hour. When they finally finished, the remainder of the guests stood and applauded them. Seven noticed B’Elanna slide a holo-imager into her pocket, which made Seven smile. She knew where that video was going and she hoped that seeing her face made the Admiral’s knees buckle too. 

-2399-

Now that Tom had retired, Seven rarely went a day without talking to him. B’Elanna joined in some of the time. However, her friend had been overwhelmingly busy with her project. Tom, on the other hand, seemed to have all the time in the world. It was obvious that he was lonely which meant long phone calls and plenty of camping trips. Tom admitted that he missed something tiny to boss around. Seven jokingly suggested that he get a dog. 

Mehir had been asked to participate in a program designed for young boys with dreams of being in command at Starfleet. It meant the teenager spent his week at Starfleet HQ and the weekends at home. B’Elanna had gotten a small apartment in San Fransico, where she and her son stayed during the week. 

Tom, who had nothing but time, had unwillingly recruited Seven as “one of the boys,” as he put it. So, they went fishing, drank beer, and bench pressed together. They spent weekends in the mountains, surviving on ration bars and a gallon of water. Sometimes they went to classic starship shows and Tom would ramble on about the specs of ships that hadn’t seen space in a hundred years. Occasionally, Seven would wrangle him into doing rounds on her course at home. 

When Elnor had returned from his visit home, he had immediately expressed interest in becoming a Fenris Ranger. Seven, after recovering from a nasty bout of panic at the mention of her former employers, told him that it would be a wonderful opportunity. They talked about it in-depth and unpacked a lot of hidden fears they both had. Seven told him the long version of what happened to Icheb and why she still felt insurmountable guilt over it. Elnor returned the favor by telling her the story of how he survived the Romulan supernova.

When she realized that nothing she could say would change his mind, Seven asked Elnor to at least stay for Christmas. He agreed, admitting that he had already made her a present. They exchanged gifts and drank hot chocolate while enjoying each other’s company. Neither of them mentioned Fenris, the Borg, or Starfleet. 

The next morning, he bid her farewell and set off on a journey to Fenris. When she arrived back from the transport location, Seven discovered a padded mailer in front of her door. 

Inside was a generic New Year’s card from the Starfleet gift shop and a key to a hotel room in San Francisco. Many scenarios presented themselves to her, none of them likely. If it was a trap, it was awfully disappointing in its presentation. If it was Janeway, requesting a night of passion and forgiveness for her years of avoidance, then she would have to decline. That was not how she wanted to see the Admiral again. Had the envelope not been hand addressed to her, Seven would have assumed that it had been delivered in error. 

Eventually, her curiosity got the best of her and on the very last day of the year, Seven boarded a transport for the city she’d vowed to never visit again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for coming on this journey with me. I hope you all enjoy it. Please forgive any mistakes, I currently have no power thanks to some nasty weather. I will come back and fix anything asap. But, I didn't want any of you to wait a second longer!

_In all my dreams, dear, you seem to leave me_

_When I awake my poor heart pains_

-2400-

Dazzling snowflakes, illuminated by the rising sun’s light, were swept away by an aggressive winter breeze. The flakes spun in funnels before landing on her hair, matting the dandelion locks down. She raked a gloved hand through her hair and grunted when it tangled and pulled against her scalp. The tips of her hair whipped against her cheeks painfully. Frustrated, Seven pulled a hairpin from her coat pocket and twisted her hair back in the fastidious updo she sported years prior. From a tactical standpoint, loose hair was a weakness. Never give an opponent something to grab onto. 

The city looked exactly how she remembered it. Granted, it hadn’t been that long since she had been there. However, the glimpse she got when she delivered Bjayzl hardly mattered. There was also the time where she over imbibed and serenaded the entire Starfleet cemetery to work through her grief. Despite all of the negativity associated with the city, it still held a significant place in her heart. Her fondest memory of San Francisco was watching Icheb graduate. The rainstorms that threatened to upturn the tents, Chakotay’s gentle hand in hers, her son beaming out into the crowd, and the lascivious confrontation with Janeway. All of the heartache and wallowing paled in comparison to the memories that came from that day. 

She walked along the boardwalk, taking in the scenery. Her breath came in short puffs that disappeared into the cold. The sun was just about to rise, scattering pastel trails up and down the sand. People were jogging with their dogs and couples were holding hands. A few stragglers were camped out in front of the hot chocolate stand on the beach. It was busy but not overwhelmingly so; no one bumped into her or stepped on her toes while knocking past her. Soon, the sun would rise and the quaint beach would be packed with shivering tourists. 

The hotel came into view and Seven took a moment to settle herself. The last time she had walked up the sapphire velveteen stairs had been directly after Voyager had landed. The crew had been invited to a celebration of their accomplishments, mostly to appease the press. It had been filled with mundane speeches and hand-shaking with high-ranking officials. She had been too heartbroken to properly enjoy herself. Although, based upon the reactions of her crewmates, it was a mediocre event regardless. 

The building was large, imposing. It towered over the beach and cast a shadow directly into the ocean. Every instinct told her to turn away and burn the card she’d been sent. Despite her discomfort, the idea that Janeway could be inside the building overrode all of her rational thoughts. How many times could she chase the ghost of a relationship that had never taken off? Was it foolish to maintain hope that the universe would bring them back together? 

She entered the lobby, sorely aware that her rugged appearance clashed with the elegant atmosphere. This was not a standard hotel, this was a luxury experience. Grandiosity and pomp oozed from the place. Definitely not somewhere Janeway would make a habit of being. 

The woman at the front desk eyed her with a specific brand of disgust. Seven, unphased, shrugged off the causal disrespect. Not everyone had come to accept the ex-drones as members of society. Some of it was unresolved anger from Wolf 359, some of it was standard xenophobia. Seven disregarded it all the same. 

“May I help you?”

Seven maintained her ambivalent demeanor, “Room 203?”

The woman nodded and pointed to Seven’s left. “Third door on the right. Need help?”

“I do not require assistance,” Seven replied. “What time is checkout?”

The woman answered in a robotic cadence that sounded like a script that was repeated many times per day, “The suites are long-term facilities. The check out is negotiated after a minimum stay of fifteen days.”

Seven nodded and proceeded to the elevators without another word. Her well-worn dusty olive duffle bag scratched against her pants and bounced gently off the door of the elevator. Once the lift started, Seven crossed her hands over her chest and tried to center herself. 

When she arrived at the suite, she knocked on the door. When no one answered, she slid the card through the slot and gently nudged the door open. 

Seven called into the room and was met with silence. She flicked lights on and walked slowly towards the center of the expansive suite. Floor to ceiling windows made for a charming view of the beach below. The decor had a pastel theme, coral walls, and peach accents adorned the rooms. She had to admit it was an exquisite room, a far cry from her simple home. The only problem was, it was very obviously empty. 

She took her time inspecting the walls for cameras and looking for comm tapping. Eventually, she concluded that the room wasn’t a trap. Seven rotated her neck and flinched at the awful noises it made when the bones popped. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she had made a mistake.

Then, she spotted something. In the middle of the room, on a glass table next to a pen and notepad, was a small gift box. She approached the table and picked up the box. It was white and simple, similar to something sold in gift shops. It appeared relatively harmless, measuring about the size of a deck of cards. She shook it, preparing for an explosion or at least a ticking noise. But none of that happened. A small rattle came from it when she shook it again but, nothing else. Cautiously, she lifted the top off and looked inside.

Nestled in between cheap cotton filler, was a Fenris Ranger calling chip. She hadn’t seen one of these in years. Not since she gave hers to Icheb before his first mission. How had it managed to be in San Francisco? 

She held the chip up to the light and examined it fondly. The clear material was riddled with smudged fingerprints and dirt. She pressed it once, curious to see if it was activated. When nothing happened, she set it in her pocket. 

“Did you ever think you’d see that again?” a voice off in the distance asked, startling her. “I managed to pry it from Bjayzl’s cold fingers when I found her dead. It seemed she wanted to see you before she died. One guess as to where she got it.”

When the figure stepped forward, Seven gasped. 

Admiral Nechayev, looking tense, waved a hand to Seven. “Relax, I’m not here to kill you.”

“I highly doubt that,” Seven spat, “Our last meeting was less than welcoming.”

“Oh, I didn’t say I wanted you alive. I’m just not going to kill you myself. I have an offer for you,” she walked towards Seven and sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. “I think I may have something you’re interested in.”

“What would that be?” Seven asked. “Bjayzl already took everything from me. You said she was dead?”

“Sure is. I saw her body myself,” Nechayev offered. “Now, about my offer.”

“I require proof,” Seven demanded. “I need to _know_ that she is dead.”

“You’ll have to trust me,” Neyachev shrugged. “Why would I lie? I hated her too.”

“Irrelevant,” her familiar Borg tone was back. “Your offer?”  
  


The Admiral smiled in a devious way, “Ah, yes. I have something you want.”

Seven remained quiet and waited for her to reveal her answer. She buried her hands in her jacket to hide her trembling hands. She was trying to process the news of Bjayzl’s death while maintaining her composure. The smile slid off of Admiral’s face as she stepped closer to Seven. When they were no more than a footstep apart, Neyachev continued. 

“Your parents,” the evil grin was back. “They were found on a Borg cube almost four years ago.”

Seven stepped backward and squeezed the chip in her pocket so hard it cracked, “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Nechayev shrugged. “Why do you think your friend Lieutenant Torres has been so secretive? Why do you think that your precious Janeway has taken such an interest in her little pet project? Why it’s all for you! It’s always been for you.” 

“I fail to see the appeal of your offer,” Seven countered. “My parents were assimilated years ago.”

The Admiral laughed and shook her head, “You Borg are so dense. Wildly intelligent, yet not a single ounce of common sense.”

Seven merely grunted in response. 

“You see, if you come with me and do what I say, you’ll see your parents.”

Seven stepped even closer to the door, “And if I don’t?”

“Well, darling,” Nechayev said sweetly, “I’ll kill them.”

“I call bullshit!” Seven shouted. “You would kill integrated ex-drones? I don’t believe you. You’re Starfleet, you have a code of honor.”

“I used to. That is until my family was torn apart in a senseless battle, caused by you! Now what do I have to live for? What would they do, strip my rank?”

Seven was stuck. She did not believe the woman in front of her but really couldn’t put innocent lives at risk. The debilitating guilt of Icheb’s death was still heavy on her heart, she could not handle her parents being added to the pile. There was enough blood on her hands. It was time to atone. Her comfort was irrelevant. 

“I will comply,” Seven’s voice dropped to a rugged whisper, “So long as you promise that no harm will come to my parents.”

“You have my word,” the Admiral held her hand up in a surrendering position. “Now, please follow me.”

Seven sighed, defeated. She followed the Admiral back into the hallway and to the elevator. On the way out, the woman at the front desk sneered at her. 

“Have a pleasant day, ladies!”

Seven simply ignored the woman and kept trudging forward. 

-x-

After being transported to a strange room, Seven sat on a cheap plastic chair at the distressed wooden table. The uncomfortable chair, likely an interrogation trick, dug into the implant on her lower back. Seven ignored the pain, they did not deserve a reaction from her. She would give them exactly what they ask for and nothing more.

She did not move when Nechayev took the seat across from her. Her gaze was trained on an old war poster on the wall behind her. The atmosphere felt very surreal until the Admiral reached into her pocket and pulled out a PADD. She set it on the table and slid it to Seven, who took it cautiously. 

It was information on her parents. They had been rescued and now lived at a facility for ex-drones in Pennsylvania. Erin and Mangus Hansen had been taken from Borg cube that had been led through a wormhole by the _USS Icheb._ Had she been alone, the significance would have brought her to her knees. 

She couldn’t save Icheb, but he could save her parents. The realization made her incredibly sad but also very, very proud. 

“They’re expecting you,” the Admiral said. “I just need one thing from you. It’s actually quite simple.”

Seven adjusted herself in the chair and grimaced when her hip protested. “What would that be?”

“I need you to relay a message to them.”

“My parents?” Seven asked, confused.

“The Borg,” Nechayev said, her eyes filling with fury. “I need to tell them something.”

“But the Queen was killed; the collective is no more,” Seven explained. “I know of only one way to reach them all, and it would undo all the progress Starfleet has made.”

“I wish to transmit a message to every last drone, regardless of who had made what progress.” 

“Why?” 

“I need them to remember what happened, what atrocities they committed. I need them to understand why they will _never_ be welcomed here.”

Seven shivered, oddly unsettled by the overt disdain. 

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“You’re going to tell them. Do you agree to the terms?” Nechayev demanded. “I’m only going to ask once.”

“I require mo-” Seven’s head cracked to the side as she was backhanded. She tasted blood and spat onto the table in front of her. 

“No! Decide now!”

Seven swallowed the metallic liquid and conceded, “I will comply.”

-x-

Once again, she was taken to a transport pad. Right before they stepped onto it, a hood was slipped over Seven’s head and cuffs on her wrists. Her senses kicked into overdrive. She cataloged the smell of the electricity in the air and the sound of the guard’s shoes on the ground. She was roughly pushed down into a chair and a heavy hand was pressed against her shoulder to hold her down.

When the transport was finished, she immediately was overwhelmed by fear. Something about the area triggered panic in her and the desire to run was climbing exponentially. With one person holding each of her arms, she was led down corridors and onto lifts. After quite a bit of walking with her anxiety mounting, she was near hysterical. They threw her onto the ground and she landed with a painful grunt on a hard floor. Her arms were still bound behind her, causing her shoulders to cry out in pain. 

“Stand!” the Admiral commanded.

Seven rocked once to gather momentum and jumped into a standing position with her shoulders set defensively. The hood was yanked from her head and she tried her best not to let on just how nervous she was. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. She heaved with each breath, staving off panic the best she could.

They were in the heart of a Borg cube. The black, oily chambers around her were empty but still put her on edge. In front of her was the Queen’s station, still perfectly intact. Her mechanical limbs were suspended on each corner of the station, just waiting for someone to fill them. It subliminally called to her, teasing her to the edge of her sanity. 

“Do it!” Nechayev yelled. A group of men walked out of the shadows and encircled her. They raised their weapons and aimed for Seven. “Access the cube. I know you remember how!”

With a trembling hand, Seven reached into the heart of the cube and began to work. Her tubules emerged for the first time in nearly twenty years and plunged into the screen. Information poured into her mind and made her dizzy. Her pulse quickened and a cold sweat broke out on her skin. A sizzling noise pounded through the cube like thunder and made goosebumps erupt all over her skin. Soon, the lights in the room began to flicker and the cube began to hum with power. 

Something hit her in the upper spine, forcing her to her knees. Her tubules retreated into her wrist and a second blow hit her just above her sacrum. The moment it locked onto her vertebrae, darkness flooded her vision. Her cortical node began to buzz internally and soon the entire room was bathed in a too-familiar green hue. 

_She was Borg._

Immediately, the voices began to invade every pore of her being. They wove in and out of her mind, swirling and chattering in a disjointed pandemonium of fear. They too were confused, but that feeling would vanish soon enough. Drones all over the universe were waking up after being dormant for so long. They called to her, the new Queen, asking for commands. After two decades of one mind, the thoughts of billions overtook any individuality she may have had. She felt her body raise into the position she had often took while regenerating. Soon her hands were splayed at her hips and she stood omnipotently facing the rest of the room. 

Her body vibrated like a ship that hadn’t been started in years. It stuttered and seized and saliva frothed on her lips. She shuddered and fought to remain in control of her mind. It would be so easy just to let the voices overtake her. Assimilation would surely be less painful than the life she had lived. This could be the end, her life had come full circle.

She remembered a time when she saw Icheb, battered, and disassembled in front of her. She remembered the feeling of her head cracking against the pavement as she fell to the ground with his blood on her body. Her sorrowful cries thundered in her skull, drowning out the voices that fought against her. Finally, she remembered holding the phaser to her head and praying for the sweet mercy of a clean death. This was it - the grand finale. This was the end of Annika Hansen and the rebirth of Seven of Nine. 

“We are Borg,” she said in a timbre she had shed years prior, “Resistance is futile.”

“Tell them! Tell them what they did. Make them pay!” Nechayev spat. 

“I will not comply. You will be assimilated,” Seven of Nine said. “The Borg will prevail.”

She was losing control. Inky molasses began to seep into her peripherals, coating her world in all-encompassing darkness. Her consciousness began to fade into the collective. Hopefully, her life and accomplishments would not be forgotten. Hopefully, Janeway would learn to forgive her. 

“Plan B, boys! Let ‘er rip!” 

Seven of Nine regarded the Admiral with a certain curiosity; this was not part of the plan. One of the men placed a small disk on the console in front of her and pressed a button. Seven felt something invade her mind, silencing all the voices. She stepped forward crudely, her motions inconsistent and erratic. The lines connected to her back swayed as she careened towards the computer. She raised her arm and brought it down on the disk, shattering it instantly. The pieces skittered to a stop near her boots and she kicked them away. 

Suddenly, it was quiet. There were no voices, no collective, just overwhelming silence. Curious, Seven turned towards the Admiral, who stood just a few feet away. 

“Good job, Seven. You’ve performed well. I’m sure the Federation will be pleased to know that all of their half-breeds are currently brain dead.”

“No!” Seven yelled, still connected to the cube. The voices were gone, it was quiet. She was alone. One mind, one soul, one voice. 

_Alone._

Seven reached out and grabbed the Admiral by the throat. She squeezed, reveling in the horror in the woman’s eyes. It was revenge, vengeance. It was peace at last. The whites of Nechayev’s eyes filled with broken vessels and a syrupy trail of blood oozed from her nostril. Then, her body went limp in her grip and she dropped the woman to the floor. She looked around to the men in the room. “You will be assimilated, you will comply.”

Suddenly, she was violently severed from the tubes in her back. The room spun in a dizzying way and she landed face down, her ocular implant cracked against the grates of the floor. Gurgles rang out around her and soon everything went dark.

-x-

When she woke, she noticed two things. One, that the only sound in the cube was a soft set of sobs. The second thing was that the Admiral’s body, along with her men, were gone. 

Seven tried to stand and grimaced when the entrance points on her back spasmed. She could feel the tenderness throughout her whole body. Her eyes watered and her ribs as if she was a victim of a blood eagle.

“Hello?” she called out wearily. 

“Seven?” a voice sounded astonished. “I thought I was too late!”

“Elnor?”

“Yes,” he said, walking towards her with a LED light on his wrist. “I came to you when you called!”

“How did you know where to find me?” Seven asked, reaching for him. In the corner of her vision, she saw the Admiral's blood smeared on the web of her hand. She wiped it on her clothes and reached out once more. He pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. They embraced tenderly, Seven could feel him trembling in her arms. 

“The card, you carried one with you,” Elnor insisted. “You did mean to call for me, right?”

Suddenly, it all made sense. “The chip! You’re here from Fenris?”

“Yes! You pressed the chip! I volunteered to go. I was so scared for you,” Elnor whispered into her ear. “You’re my best friend.”

“You saved my life,” Seven whispered, breaking the embrace. “I would have succumbed to the Borg.”

“I’m not going to lie, when I cut the cords connected to you, I thought I had killed you.”

“Where is Nechayev?

Elnor looked around sheepishly, “I offered them life, they chose to fight. I cleaned up my mess.”

“Where are we?” Seven started towards the door. “I only remember sounds.”

“We’re somewhere right outside of Earth’s orbit. I have a small shuttle docked. I just hope they haven’t spotted it yet. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Seven insisted, limping towards the door. 

Elnor nodded and led the way. 

-x-

Once they had boarded the shuttle and began heading towards Earth, Seven relfected on what had just happened. She had found out her parents were alive, taken control of a Borg cube, connected with the hive mind, and murdered a Starfleet Admiral. That alone could have her imprisoned for life. Never had she so outwardly broken laws. Even if she had been reassimilated, she would still be held responsible. 

When they began the descent into Earth’s atmosphere, Seven noticed a fleet of starships heading towards the cube. 

“Think they got wind of an activation?”

“I’m not sure,” Seven stood and watched the ships through the back window. After a few moments, a large explosion happened and Seven realized that had she waited only a few more minutes, it could have been her. 

“Well,” Elnor said from the helm. “At least you won’t have to face trial.”

“Elnor, before you came for me, did you hear anything about the drones?” Seven asked quietly. 

“No, I came straight for you. I didn’t notice anything.” 

“Right before I passed out, Nechayev said that the drones would be ‘brain dead.’ I’m not sure what she meant.”

“Well, you were a drone and you’re okay. I’ll bet she was full of it,” Elnor offered. “Buckle up, we’re about to land.”

Seven sat down and strapped in, afraid of what she would find on Earth. 

-x-

When Seven stepped out of the craft, she was met with utter chaos. Drones lined the streets, motionless - almost as if they’d been deactivated on the spot. People were screaming, and pointing. Seven grabbed Elnor’s coat desperately as her knees buckled. 

He turned and guided her towards some high bushes ahead. Seven winced when her back spasmed once again. 

“We need to get you to someplace you can rest,” Elnor whispered. “Can you go home?”

“No,” Seven replied with glassy eyes. 

Elnor scrunched his nose and tightly shut his eyes. A second later his eyes opened.

“I know what to do.”

-x-

The tingle that came after transport usually left Seven itchy. However, this time she noticed nothing as she beamed into the office of her friend. Colors and shapes bled into each other as her surroundings faded into nothing. B’Elanna, who looked absolutely petrified, was patting her down and asking her all kinds of questions. Seven, unable to speak, simply stared at the floor. 

“What happened to her?” B’Elanna cried at Elnor. “She’s in shock!”

“I got a distress call from her. I tracked her chip to an abandoned Borg cube. When I got there she was plugged into something from behind and she was weird! Her eyes were black and she talked like a robot!” Elnor cried out, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She just kept repeating that she was Borg. When I severed her, I thought I killed her!”

B’Elanna shook her head, “Plugged in? Oh no. Oh no, no.”

“Help her!” Elnor cried. “She told me someone said the drones were brain dead and when we landed she wouldn’t talk!”

“What?” B’Elanna yelled, immediately tapping her comm. “Torres to Wildman.”

“Wildman here.”

“We have a huge problem. One bigger than any of us could have accounted for.”

“Is it Seven?” Samantha’s voice wobbled once.

“It’s the drones. Something is wrong with them!”

“Come to me. The Admiral asked not to be disturbed today.”

“I need to bring someone.”

“Can I trust them?”

“Seven did.”

“Good enough for me!”

-x-

When Seven eventually woke, she realized that she was alone in a strange room. She analyzed her surroundings and recognized a plaque that Mehir had gotten for excelling in his program. She had seen it many times while chatting with B’Elanna and she was incredibly grateful to see it now. She rose from the floor and was dismayed at how feeble she felt. While it was nice to be in her friend’s office, she was curious as to why. Then it hit her. The drones. She killed them.

She committed genocide and nothing could fix it. Their voices still echoed in her brain. They called for help, for someone to save them. None of them asked to be deactivated. There was only one thing she could think of doing. 

She needed to find Admiral Janeway.

Seven snuck out into the hallway and checked to ensure that no one was watching her. She hastily swiped at her eyes, angry at the tears that threatened to fall. She did not deserve pity, she deserved the gauntlet. Only Janeway knew the key to reversing it all, to help her fix this mess of a life she had created. She’d stayed away long enough. To know that Kathryn was in the same building as her, set her nerves on fire. But, she was not on a mission of unfulfilled passion. She wanted atonement, a chance, an escape. 

After slinking past darkened rooms for nearly an hour, Seven managed to find the lift to the central areas of Starfleet headquarters. She knew that B’Elanna’s office had been hidden away but she had no idea that it was to such a degree. 

“Hey!”

Seven turned to see a man with a mop staring at her. “What are you doing here? Didn’t you hear them say that this building was off-limits until they can ventilate it? Some virus or something is going around!”

“My apologies, Lieutenant Torres sent me down here to grab some files. I will be on my way.” Seven turned around and doubled back. 

Once he was out of sight, she continued on a different intercept course. She pushed a set of double doors open slightly and walked into a darkened gymnasium. Jump ropes hung from the walls and a corral filled with balls was off in the corner. She kept going along the hallway, passing through a small mess hall and a library. Once she came to the end of the building, she noticed that there was a set of stairs that was sectioned off. Ahead of her was a guard station facing away from her. 

Considering she had no way to get to the rest of the building, she tentatively took the stairs. After six flights, she came to a stop and looked out at the expanse below. The people she had watched before now looked smaller than ants. She could see them rushing around helplessly. Ahead of her was a door that led to a pedestrian overpass that acted as a bridge over the property. Past the bridge looked like a series of elevator doors. 

She unlocked the door and waited to see if any alarms would go off. When they didn’t, she stepped out onto the catwalk and looked around to see if she could recognize where she was. Below her looked like the visitor area where she had checked in for Icheb’s graduation. She hadn’t visited Janeway since the woman’s promotion, which meant that her office had moved. If she remembered correctly, Admirals would be a floor up and four wings towards the back of the building. 

She continued down the walk and ended up on the other side of a parking garage. By her estimation, she would find the correct wing soon, so long as she stayed hidden. She looked all around the cement room and saw another elevator. It looked to be older, perhaps a service lift for the cleaning staff. 

When she stepped into the lift, she deliberately turned her body away from the camera. The buttons had long been worn down so Seven picked the highest button on the panel. She was getting desperate. 

The ride up was bumpy, completely different from the turbolifts she was accustomed to. When the doors dinged and slid open, Seven slid out and scanned the room vigilantly. The area around her seemed to be a landing pad and a parking garage. A large “x” was painted on the cement and there was a tarmac platform next to it. Quickly, she turned and made her way through the dark garage. After a few minutes, she came to a door that led to a series of rooms. The backward lettering on the glass indicated that it was an emergency exit. She looked upwards and noticed a large klaxon with lights on either side. She could take the chance of setting off the alarms or she could find another way in. 

Both decisions had significant risks. Outrunning an alarm seemed quicker than retracing her steps. Seven took three deep breaths and turned to yank the door open. The moment her fingertips touched the cool metal handle, a face appeared in the window of the door and made her jump. Immediately the figure disappeared and then reappeared with a stepladder. The figure, who seemed to be female, reached up and did something to the alarm above the door. 

She stepped down and pushed the door open. When Seven’s eyes found ones she had not seen in decades, her heart skipped a beat. 

“Naomi Wildman,” Seven said tenderly, “I have not seen you in too long.”

“You’re right, you haven’t. I understand. Come with me, we must hide.”

Seven took the hand offered to her and ran with Naomi, who had grown considerably. She was taller than her mother. Sunset colored hair bounced off her Starfleet uniform as they ran down the hallway. When they reached a tiny office and slipped inside, Naomi locked the door and pulled down the shade. Seven noticed that the door boasted Samanta Wildman’s name. Good, it was time someone acknowledged the talent the woman had. 

“I heard what happened. I knew you’d come,” Naomi sounded proud as if she had won a bet. “Miral said you wouldn’t.”

“You spoke to Miral?” Seven asked, surprised. 

“Yeah, like every night. We’re best friends! It’s not like on _Voyager_ when communications were scarce. We have open comm lines and can call personnel rooms basically whenever we want.”

“An upgrade indeed. That surely would have made everyone’s life easier,” Seven lamented. 

The young woman slipped into her mother’s chair. “Not for me, my whole family was on that ship. Yours too!”

Seven nodded and sat across from her, “You are correct. I can’t believe how you’ve grown!”

Naomi smacked her palms against the wooden desk, “Okay, don’t take offense to this but Seven, you look _good_!”

“Compliments are unnecessary but not unwelcome,” Seven admitted. “I do have a favor to ask.”

“Let me guess,” Naomi tapped a finger to her glossed lips, “You want me to take you to Janeway?”

“I do.”

“I can’t take you directly there, I don’t have the clearance to get you to her office. But, I can get you the wing outside. I don’t think you’ll have a problem getting in after that.

“Explain.”

Naomi rolled her eyes at Seven and threw her hands in the air, “I just know, okay!”

Seven raised her eyebrows but said nothing. When Naomi stood and motioned for her to follow, Seven nodded and made her way to her friend. Gone was the girl who cheated at Kadis Kot and painted her crafts for her home. Now she had been replaced by a woman who had a smile that radiated kindness and warmth. 

All of the children in her life had grown up, minus one. 

Together, they walked past personnel and employees. None of them looked twice at them. Once they arrived at the door to the security office, Seven turned to Naomi and asked her a question. 

“How did you foresee my arrival?”

“Boothby. Well, the holographic version of him. We’re best friends, he tells me everything! When he told me he found an ex-Borg drone outside Lieutenant Torres’ hallwayy, I knew it had to be you!”

“Why would he do that?”

“He knows how much my family is invested in the project. I think he thought you were looking for my mom. But, I knew who you were here to see.”

“Somehow I am not surprised. Naomi Wildman, you have been incredibly helpful. How can I ever repay you?”

“I don’t know, _call_ me once in a while. I’m old enough to get drinks!”

Seven kissed her forehead and did not answer, she did not have the heart to tell Naomi that she would not be returning. The girl nodded to her and walked down the hallway. When she got to the end, she blew a kiss at Seven and disappeared down a corridor. 

Her heart pounded violently in her chest, on the other side of the door was the security desk. If she could just get past that, she would be all clear to find the Admiral. 

Seven took a deep breath, held it in her belly, and exhaled it as slowly as she could. Her metallic fingertips tapped the door handle before grabbing it and yanked the door open. She stepped into the hallway and turned to see Tuvok seated before her. 

“You have made it right on time, Seven of Nine,” the Vulcan said. “Janeway is in her room. Would you like an escort?”

“No thanks,” Seven said caught off guard. 

That’s what Naomi meant. 

Seven lifted her hand to the desk and covered Tuvok’s hand with her own. “You have done so much for all of us. I wish you a lifetime of peace.”

Tuvok nodded and returned the sentiment, “I wish only that you find the answers to the questions that have plagued you since you came to Earth.”

“Me too,” Seven admitted. She took a few steps forward and turned back to her friend. 

“Fifth door on the left.”

She thanked him and proceeded down the hall. Once she arrived at the nondescript door, a series of chimes flooded the hallway, announcing that it was 19:00 hours. Seven smacked her palms against her thighs and reigned in her emotions. She was determined to show no weakness to this woman. Quietly she jumped and shook her head to clear the nerves that plagued her system. 

Finally, she pressed the call button and waited. Her body vibrated with pent-up aggression that had been manifesting for years. 

“Come in,” the familiar voice called out in that alluring commanding tone. 

Seven began the trek from the door to the inner office. Each step brought on a new set of feelings. By the time finally stepped from the shadows, her heart threatened to beat out of her chest. There, in the flesh, was Admiral Kathryn Janeway - still as beautiful and zealous as she had been nearly twenty years ago. 

Her hair now resembled the future Admirals in cut, but the color remained the rich auburn that it had been. She had aged, they both had. But something deep within her entire being was affected on a metaphysical level. She still harbored deep feelings of anger for Janeway, but she also felt a wild passion mounting. 

“Annika.” 

It sounded grotesque coming from her, the human designation seemed worthless now. 

“My designation is Seven of Nine. You will address me as such.”

Janeway’s eyebrows shot up and for a moment, Seven regretted the anger seeping into her tone. She did not come to delve into personal feelings. Right now, she had a problem. Janeway folded her arms across her chest and lifted one leg across the other. Seven could tell she was on the defense now.

She stepped around the desk and stood, looming over the Admiral. Janeway looked upwards to Seven and her enticing eyes almost - _almost_ \- broke her resolve. She reached out with a hand and gently tucked a strand of Janeway’s dark hair back into place behind her ear. She recalled a night involving crumpled sheets and the necklace that hung around her neck. She remembered the way Janeway has kissed her with bourbon-flavored passion. The memories came back to her with such ferocity that her fingers began to tingle. She stepped back and wrapped her arms around herself. 

Admiral Janeway,” Seven choked out in a partial sob. “I wish to die. And I would like you to facilitate it.”

The Admiral’s eyes widened and her mouth opened in horror, her head shook with such force, that it freed the errant strand of hair that Seven had just put back. Her face slid into the famed Janeeway resolve and for a moment Seven was reminded of all their disagreements on _Voyager_.

“No.”

“You must comply,” Seven urged curling her hands into fists and pressing her fingernails into her palms, “You do not understand what I have been through.”

The Admiral stood, and Seven noticed a tremble in the woman’s limbs. She stood toe-to-toe with Seven and raised her hands in defeat. 

“You’re right, I don’t. But, I can’t kill you,” Janeway moved her arm towards Seven but stopped halfway and pulled back. 

Seven tilted her head to the side and unabashedly examined her. It was sublime to be in the presence of someone she had been chasing for half her life. This meeting was all she had wanted for years. Night after night of dreaming about the day she met Janeway again. Seven smiled and the Admiral looked to her with latent pride. It occurred to her that she had not expressed herself that way until long after they had split. 

“You are so beautiful when you smile,” Janeway said, looking away from her. “I only wish I had seen it sooner.”

“You could have.” Seven said simply. “You knew where I was.”

“I couldn’t. I needed to keep you safe. And now you want me to kill you?”

“I’m not asking you to kill me, I’m asking you to let me die,” Seven was desperate, “You changed the future once, you can do it again. It’s a perfect time. I have to fix everything!”

“You want me to change everything back? To sacrifice the future for all of my crew and myself, so you can marry Chakotay and die?”

“I harbored nothing but platonic love for him. He was safe. He never abandoned me.”

“He loved you, you know?” Janeway asked, sitting back down in her chair.

“He loved you as well but you already knew that,” Seven countered. “You knew he loved us both but had enough decorum to let us try.”

“Why do you want to go back so much? Temporal incursions are irreversible. You don’t know what your tampering could do. Besides the TIC would have a field day.”

“You are being deliberately obtuse, Admiral,” Seven shot back. “Do you not remember what you said to me after Icheb’s graduation?”

Janeway’s face fell at the mention of Seven’s son. 

“You told me that if you knew then what you know now, you would have spent those three years loving me.”

The words hung heavy in the air. 

“You’re right. I did say that. But you have yet to give me an argument that would even begin to rationalize the actions of the future Admiral.”

Seven felt a tear fall from her eye and she cursed her body for betraying her, “They would all be alive. Everyone. Chakotay, Icheb, my parents. I am a catalyst for death and I cannot handle it.”

“Chakotay isn’t dead because of you,” Janeway said sternly. “His death is my fault and I think about it every day.”

Seven wrapped her arms around herself and began to pace around the room. The rubber soles of her boots caught on the carpet as she walked. She looked upwards to coax back the tears that threatened to fall. Finally, she made her way back to Janeway and locked eyes with her.

“Icheb would be alive.”

“Maybe,” Janeway said cautiously, “Maybe not. What if he died on _Voyager_?”

“Unlikely,” Seven admitted. “But not impossible.”

“I know it’s painful, especially knowing that he died so viciously. But, if his last moments were with you, who's to say he would want anything different? How could we deny him the comfort you brought him?”

“What would you know?” Seven yelled, throwing her hands out in aggression. “What could you possibly know about losing the one person in the world who loved you unconditionally? He bled on my hands, I pushed my weapon into his chest and fired! I murdered my son because I let myself be led astray. I let someone in and my son is gone forever.”

“I know a little about grief, believe me,” Janeway said. “I also know more about Bjayzl than you think. What do you remember?”

Seven looked horrified, “You’re asking me to recount the hardest, most excruciating moment of my life? To you? For what?”

The Admiral sighed, “Please?”

“I remember the smell of his hair when I buried my face in his neck and the way his corpse looked on the teal sheet he died on. I remember his slippery fingers, leaving blood on the cross I still wear. Your cross - the one you took from my hands and fastened around my neck so long ago. I remember his pitiful pleading for me to end his life. I remember thinking that had I just been faster, just said no to the woman in the bar, that he would still be alive!”

“Do you remember the phaser on the floor? How it hummed and burnt bits of your hair as you fired it? Do you remember the energy beam that pulsed through your skull? Do you remember me, running faster than I ever have, just to see you with a weapon to your head? What if I had been faster? What if refused to see the woman who was masquerading as a Fenris Ranger? What if I had done just a little more research? Would I have caught you before you pulled the trigger?”

The admission stopped Seven mid-breath. She backed up further and further until the back of her knees hit the couch. She sat down, on the verge of losing it. 

Janeway sighed, “I remember because I was there.”

Seven whimpered, “Like hell you were.”

“Oh, but I was,” the Admirals voice began to rise. 

She stood and walked to Seven with rage in her eyes, “Did you know it was me who pulled you away from the phaser? Your hair was in my hands, tangled in my fingers when you fired. All I could think of was how much I yearned to feel it again. How _romantic_ it was that I was allowed to feel it once more, as the light faded from your eyes. All of my frantic running to save you and all I had left was thirty-six strands of hair that was coated in your blood. The Doctor and I worked for a week to save you. If you weren’t Borg, I would have lost you!”

“You cannot lose what you do not have. You made that very clear to me,” Seven whispered.

Janeway’s stoic demeanor crumbled. She knelt down to Seven and pleaded, “Do you know why I had to leave you? Why I had to spend every day thinking about what you were doing, who you were talking to? Why I avoided you at all costs, even if it ripped me apart inside?”

“I have an idea, but nothing substantial. I told your family that I had forgiven you, which I have. But, I am still so scared. Not of you, but of how deeply I still feel for you.”

Janeway was quietly weeping now, tears dropping onto the carpet between their feet, “I knew they were watching you through me. I couldn’t be responsible for your death, just like I can’t be now!”

“Who?”

“The Federation, Section 31, Bjayzl - I didn’t want to ask! I kept my nose clean and focused on the Reclamation Project. I pretended you didn’t exist.”

“Well, they found me anyway,” Seven said sarcastically. “They found me and used me to deactivate every drone alive.” 

“They did what?” Janeway stepped forward and grabbed Seven’s upper arms. “Are you all right?”

“It does not matter. The drones are dead. Killed by my hand.”

“What happened?” Janeway turned and stalked back to her desk.

“Admiral Nechayev offered me a deal if I would transmit a message to every drone. I believed that I would transmit it and be brought to my parents. Instead, I became the Borg and they used me to rid all of the drones.”

“You reactivated the drones?” Jane asked, mystified. “How?”

“Indeed. I did not assimilate them, I only reawakened their cortical implants.”

“So, why weren’t you affected?”

Seven sighed, “I do not know.”

“Would you hang on for just a moment? I need to call someone. Please?” Janeway stepped back and sat on the corner of her desk. “Just sit. I need to talk to B’Elanna.”

“She’s with Elnor and Samantha Wildman.” Seven offered. 

Janeway looked at her confused, “Now, how did you know that?”

“I was transported into Lieutenant Torres’ office upon landing on Earth. She talked to Samantha Wildman before I passed out.”

“And Elnor is with them? The Romulan vigilante that travels with Picard?”

Seven spoke wearily, “Elnor and I have become close. He chose the path of a Fenris Ranger and came to my aid.”

The Admiral stood back up and walked towards the door, “It sounds like quite a story. I wish to hear it later if you’re willing to recount it.”

“I will comply.”

-x-

The door to Janeway’s office opened, revealing B’Elanna, Samantha Wildman, Naomi, and Elnor. The group came in quietly, followed by Admiral Janeway, who shut the door and locked it. 

“Well, the gang’s all here,” Janeway said softly. She walked over to the couch Seven was sat on and sat down next to her. “I think we have it all sorted out now.”

“Have what sorted?” Seven asked.

“The drones weren’t deactivated,” B’Elanna revealed, obviously relieved. “Nechayev’s first mistake was trying to use you as a conduit. From what I can tell, she tried to relay a neurolytic pathogen in the same way the other Admiral did. It failed to do much more than stun them for an hour or so.”

“How did she know about that?” Seven asked. “Only a few of us knew of it.”

“My mistake, once again. When we were debriefed after landing, I was told that Admiral Nechayev was in charge of following up with confirmation about the destroyed transwarp hub. In exchange for clemency, I was instructed to relay all information about our journey home to her. She concluded that it had been destroyed and proceeded to ask about you regularly. I was not aware she was conspiring against us.” 

“She harbored a lot of hatred for the Borg.”

“She did. She let it ruin her career,” Janeway said softly. “I never thought she was capable of something so foul.”

“She said Bjayzl had been killed, can you confirm that?” Seven asked. 

“I can confirm that,” she said, squeezing Seven’s thigh. “She is dead.”

“Oh, thank Kahless,” B’Elanna cried out. “That woman was vile.”

“Thank you,” Seven whispered. It was then that she broke. Sobs careened out of her body and filled the whole space. She brought her knees to her chest and attempted to make herself as small as possible on the couch. 

“She took everything from me.” 

The Admiral wrapped her arms around Seven and pulled her into an embrace. Soon the rest of the group circled them and formed one large hug. 

“I hope you can forgive me,” Janeway whispered into her ear, still surrounded in the embrace. “I couldn’t live with myself if you didn’t.”

Seven, still unable to form words, tightened her grip on the Admiral and pressed a light kiss to the side of her head, right on the strip of hair that could not stay put. 

-x-

“Was she telling the truth about my parents?” Seven asked after the rest of the group had gone to the Wildman’s home to stay overnight. The clock on Janeway’s desk indicated it was close to midnight. The sat on opposite ends of the small couch, matching mugs in their hands.

“As far as I can tell, it was partially true. They are alive but she had no intention of reuniting you,” the Admiral admitted. “I’m sorry. We could explore that avenue if you wanted to.”

Seven waved her off, “It’s better that way. I’m not sure I’m ready for that. I’m still reeling from everything that happened today. I’ve caused so much damage.”

Janeway shot her a look, “You’re not at fault. You got set up, by the same woman who fooled us. Bjayzl had all of Starfleet conned into thinking she was an insider for the Fenris Rangers. No one ever expected Nechayev either.”

“I regret many decisions involving Bjayzl,” Seven admitted. She set down the mug and pushed her head into her hands. “She broke my heart.”

“Did you love her?” Janeway asked, “It’s okay if you did.”

“No, I only have room in my heart for one. She was an escape. There were more, but she was the worst.”

“Oh,” Janeway breathed, her dewy eyes meeting Seven’s. “You don’t owe me explanations. I knew the repercussions of my actions. I still don’t quite believe you’re right here in front of me.”

“I feel the same,” Seven admitted. Her mood had stabilized once B’Elanna had told them that everyone would be okay. She was grateful to her friends for helping her through it all. She owed her safety to so many of them that I would take a lifetime to repay them all. That would be dealt with on a different day. For now, she was content to just sit with Janeway and exist. 

They sat in silence for a long while, fingertips touching. They stayed that way for so long that the motion light in the office clicked off, leaving the office to be illuminated by the moon. The pearlescent beams pouring into the darkened room reminded Seven of all the times she gazed at Janeway in the Delta Quadrant. So many times she had found herself fantasizing about this very moment. 

“You really denied me to save me?” Seven asked eventually, feeling very vulnerable. “Not for some self-servicing martyrdom?”

“I did. Seven, I’ve watched you for so long. I tried my best to show up when I could. But, the last time, when I had to drag your freezing body through a field and transport you to my mother’s yard? That hurt me deeply. I have seen you in more stages of despair than I care to. I heard from Captain Kim that I was lucky to avoid seeing you after your capture on Freecloud.

“I concur,” Seven said. “I do appreciate all the times you saved me. It must have been difficult.”

“Incredibly so. But, I treasured every moment I had with you. Even if it meant freezing in a bathtub with your body pressed against me. I will never forget just how small you seemed.”

“Don’t forget when you sang with me,” Seven reminded her. “I’m still mortified by my behavior.”

Janeway scooted a little closer and rested her arm on the back of the couch. “I didn’t think you remembered that. You had quite a bit to drink!”

“I put the pieces together eventually. I’m embarrassed by my actions.”

“Don’t be - grief is different for everyone. Did Phoebe tell you about when I lost my father and fiance?”

Seven nodded, their fingers were inches apart and she could feel herself being drawn to the woman. “She did. We talked about you a lot. I still have the pips you had her give me.”

Janeway chuckled, “Ah, I was wondering if she gave those to you.”

Seven pushed her hand forward and clasped their hands together on the back of the couch. Almost immediately, Janeway began to brush her thumb back and forth against her skin. Seven’s cheeks flushed and it was hard to breathe.

“She did. It made me quite happy. She showed me a very adorable childhood photo. She also gave me the picture of you three in front of HQ, right after you had been given your commission. You looked so cute with your polished shoes and sunburned face, even then you could see the joy and dedication you had.”

“Oh goodness, that photo has been stuffed away in the archives for years. Why would she do that? Not that I mind.”

“She was trying to show me a side of you I had not been privy to. Your _human_ side, if I may. She reminded me that even though you were Captain Janeway, you were also Kathryn - a woman with a past, a present, and a future. I had already decided to forgive you at that point. But, it did help me realize a few things.”

Janeway scooted even closer, her hand still brushing against Seven’s softly. “What did you realize?”

“Well, one was that you had freckles, which I was unaware of,” Seven smiled wistfully. “I find them incredibly attractive.”

“Not much sun in the Delta Quadrant. Just wait ‘til you see me in Bloomy. Oh, goodness I miss it there.”

“We could go sometime. I’m sure your mother misses you.”

Janeway huffed, “Not anymore. She had another daughter that she thinks the world of? Didn’t you hear?”

“Of course I did,” Seven said smugly. 

“Sorry for interrupting. Please continue.”

“Well,” Seven began, “I already mentioned the freckles. I also learned a lot about how you came to be such a strong woman. It was obvious once I met Gretchen, but it also became clear that you learned a great deal from your father.”

“I did; he taught me almost everything I know.”

“I saw photos of him. You have the same coy smile,” Seven removed her hand from Janeway’s and moved it to her cheek. Janeway leaned into the touch. 

“The last thing I learned was that you’ve been astonishingly beautiful your entire life. When I saw the photo of you three in front of the fountain, I gasped. Out loud. Phoebe teased me about it for weeks.”

“Oh my,” Janeway whispered, tears clinging to her eyelashes, “When did you become so romantic?”

“I’ve had twenty years to practice, Captain, “ Seven teased her with her former title. “I spent many nights formulating just what I would say to you if we were to meet again.”

“What would you say?” Janeway was now directly facing her on the couch. Seven’s hand shifted from Janeway’s cheek to the back of her neck. She pressed gently and coaxed the woman forward.

“It changed with the times. But, one thing always stayed the same. I said it every time, without fail.”

Their faces got closer, almost touching when Janeway looked directly at her. She tucked her lip into her teeth and whispered her last question. 

“And what was that?”

Seven tilted her head and brushed her lips gently against Janeway’s. 

“Kiss me, Kathryn.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be an epilogue, but I'm still marking it complete. Thanks again!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue! I can't believe it's over!!

  
  


Empyrean twinkles littered the frosted window of the high rise apartment. It had rained overnight, which made for an icy first light. Seven slowly ascended towards wakefulness and reveled in the delightful warmth around her. The homemade quilt, likely crafted by Gretchen, was tucked under her feet and wrapped around her like a swaddled infant. The wind whipped against the glass of the window and generated a feral moan around the room. The deep navy hue of the room was growing lighter and lighter as the minutes clicked by. 

Once the pink bursts poured through the window, Seven untangled herself from the blanket and stretched. She was surprised that she had woken so early considering the previous day had been so relentless. The muscles deep in her calves protested the movement which caused her to hiss in pain. 

Seven sat up and ran her hand through the snarls of her bedhead. When she heard a noise coming from the kitchen, she slid off the bed and yelped when the carpet shocked her feet. Dressed in a loaner pair of flannel shorts and an incredibly stretchy tank top, Seven made her way down the hall and into a cozy kitchen. 

“Ah, you’re up!” Janeway rejoiced, clad in a silky emerald robe. “I was wondering how long you would sleep for.”

“I was also curious. I regenerated a few days ago, which likely helped,” Seven said while yawning. “I do feel better than expected, though.”

“Wonderful,” Janeway motioned towards the replicator, “Help yourself!”

Seven walked further into the kitchen and took it all in. It was very modern and looked to be woefully unused. Utensils hung a little too perfect around the room, and the stove was immaculate. There were no dishes in the sink and the decorative fruit on the counter seemed to be collecting dust.

“Do you use your kitchen?” Seven asked. “Your mother would be disappointed.”

Janeway chuckled as she pulled a bag of coffee out from a cupboard. “I replicate breakfast when I remember. The only manual labor I do is brew coffee. For some reason, it just doesn’t taste right when I replicate it.”

“Is it because you always add less water to make it stronger?”

Janeway smiled at her shyly and tucked her bottom lip under her front teeth, “That’s an astute observation that is one hundred percent correct.”

Seven merely nodded knowingly inhaled deeply. 

“Sit down. I will find something suitable for breakfast. You may keep the coffee,” Seven raised an eyebrow when Janeway shuffled over to a stool and sat down. “Your mother instilled a sense of passion for culinary delights within me. I simply cannot, in good faith, let you replicate something. Especially since you shared your home with me.”

“Seven,” Janeway sighed, “Letting you stay with me is the absolute least I can do. I even requested a personal day for the first time in years. I owe you so many explanations and so many apologies to go with them.”

“Are you angry with me? For contacting you?” Seven ruffled through the cupboards until she found a canister of oats. “I understand you wanted to keep me safe.”

Janeway blew on her coffee, “I believe I underestimated you. I knew you were capable of self-defense. I just never realized that you wouldn’t be the same woman I met in the Delta Quadrant.”

“Are you disappointed that I am not?” Seven’s voice was firm but quieter. 

“Hardly. You are more human than most people born on Earth. I regret that you have been molded by heartbreak and trauma. But, you’ve become such a thoughtful, loving woman. How could I ever be disappointed? I’m so proud of you, Seven.”

A petite gasp came from Seven as she filled a pot with water, “I think, perhaps, I needed to hear that more than I had anticipated. There’s a curious feeling within me; almost as if I have finally succeeded. I achieved the greatest honor.”

“Becoming human?” Janeway asked as she took a sip of the steaming brew. 

“Making you proud.”

-x-

Lighthearted conversation bounced easily between them. Seven watched the woman in front of her recount some of the more comical stories of what she had missed. In turn, Seven told her all about the shenanigans she and Phoebe had gotten into at the farm. 

“I still can’t believe Mom got out the holo-projector! Those home movies must have been decades old!”

“Thank you for taking me there,” Seven reached out and placed her hand on Janeway’s, “I know it wasn’t the promise you originally made. But, consider it fulfilled. I learned so much there.”

“You know, Mom and Phoebes called me almost quarterly. I looked for you each time.”

“I looked for you, too.” Seven stood and gathered their dishes. “I knew that if I saw you - heard you speak, then nothing would stop me from dropping everything and begging at your knees.”

“It hurt, to watch you go through so much pain from afar. I apologize that I couldn’t do more,” Janeway admitted, rising to meet her at the counter. “Especially when I got word of what happened to Icheb.”

Seven turned around to face her, “I did not understand then. I harbored a lot of anger towards you. I later worked out that I was projecting a lot of my feelings onto you. Though our interactions have been meager and bare, I do realize that you did as much as you could. I know that it was you who kept Icheb on Mars as long as you could. I attempted to discuss it with him, but I think he was feeling abandoned by you.”

Janeway looked out over Seven’s shoulder and refused to make eye contact, “I hope he knows that I loved him as my own. I spent years dreaming about what it would be like to raise him with you.”

“I entertained those fantasies too. I’ll tell you about them sometime. He was a good boy. So earnest, caring, and selfless. All he wanted was to help bridge the gap between humans and ex-drones. It was his reason for being.”

“His work did not go unnoticed, I promise you that.” Janeway continued to gaze past Seven wistfully.

“I was allowed to grieve him and Chakotay. Were you?” Seven asked, gently placing her fingers on Janeway’s chin. She tenderly moved her face so they were focusing on each other. 

The Admiral’s bottom lip began to tremble and two fat tears dribbled out of the corner of her eyes. Her face flushed a light pink and her grip on the counter was so tight, that her skin matched the marble. 

“No.”

Seven’s heart shattered. She could not comprehend just how painful it must have been for Janeway. She reached her arms out and brought Janeway into her embrace. Without any hesitation, Kathryn tucked her head into the crook of Seven’s neck and let loose decades of unresolved sorrow. 

They were both crying by the time Janeway’s sobs subsided. Seven shifted quietly to ease the ache in her calves, but the movement broke the environment around them. Janeway stepped backward and politely excused herself. 

Seven was determined to give the woman space, especially after their emotional encounter the night before. The previous night, directly after she requested a kiss, Kathryn kissed her so delicately that it took Seven nearly twenty minutes to recover. They had a brief chat about boundaries, just to get everyone on the same page, and headed to Janeway’s apartment. When Seven inquired about where she would sleep, Janeway offered the guest quarters. 

After receiving pajamas and basic toiletries from the replicator, Janeway showed her the small bedroom, pointed out her room, and had promptly sat down on the edge of the bed. Seven, struck very profoundly by the image of Janeway sitting at the foot of the bed, could only whimper. Janeway almost immediately reacted to her, seemingly aware of what image had been stirred. 

_ You know, after I left you, I went to the farm and cried on the couch for three weeks. _   
  


_ You did? _

_ Sure did. Mom asked me where my necklace was. When I told her that I gave it to you, she didn’t know what to say. They didn’t even know that we were intimate. But my mom just knew how important to me you were.  _

-x-

After an hour without any signs of life from Janeway, Seven tiptoed to her bedroom and pressed the door open slightly. 

Janeway was kneeling on the floor in front of her bed, one hand over her heart, and the other over something silver. 

“He gave me this watch. Chakotay saved his rations and replicated it for me. I was so cruel to him over it. I thought I was keeping you safe. I knew Bjayzl’s guards could smell lies. So I told her that you and Chakotay were going to be married.”

“What proof did you have?”

“You were listed as his beneficiary and point of contact on his medical forms,” Janeway set the watch down on her comforter. “I didn’t realize just how unhinged she was. The next time I saw her was when she was apprehended by you and Picard.”

“Her actions are hers alone. Your intentions were honorable,” Seven moved to kneel next to Janeway which made them look like children saying their morning prayers. “I do not hold you responsible for either of their deaths.”

“He loved me,” Janeway whispered. “I loved him too.”

Seven nodded, “How much?”

“Not enough,” Janeway responded exhausted. “He wanted me to be someone I couldn’t be. My command always came first. He wanted a wife first, then a Captain.”

“I can understand,” Seven answered, her hand gently cupped Janeway’s elbow to help her up. “Though, I only knew you as the Captain.”

Janeway stood with a grunt and faced Seven, “I only let you see that much of me. Had I let you in, I would have let you take it all. My command, my heart, my bed - I would have given it all to you.”

“I would have taken it,” Seven mused as she sat on the bed. “Though, it would not have been prudent. I believe that I could not have understood the distinction between the Admiral Janeway of Starfleet and the Kathryn who occupied my heart.”

“God, you’ve gotten to be rather poetic. Who taught you that?” Janeway gazed at her with dewy eyes. 

“You did,” Seven moved her hand from Kathryn’s elbow and trailed it up the silken robe to her shoulder. “You inspired many things in me.”

“I want you so badly,” Janeway admitted. “I just don’t know if I have accepted that you’re here in front of me. 

Seven understood the sentiment, she too was unsure if she was ready for intimacy. There was still so much to unpack between them. 

“I have yearned to be in your bed since you coaxed me from the Delta Flyer and insist that I trust you,” Seven moved her hand from Kathryn’s shoulder and let it drift to the collar of the emerald robe. “While my trust has wavered, that desire has not.”

Janeway shivered once, and Seven clearly saw her body’s reaction through the thin robe. It was too soon, though. 

“I’m not ready,” Seven admitted in a small voice. “Intimacy is something I’m working up to. I haven’t had the best experience with it.”

Janeway brought both hands to Seven’s face and brushed both thumbs over her temples. Gently, she coaxed Seven’s face closer until they were panting centimeters apart. Janeway gave her a look that was hotter than a warp core and kissed her nose gently. 

“I’m not ready either. I want to savor this, draw it out a bit,” Janeway responded, pulling Seven close. Seven opened her arms and enveloped the smaller woman in an embrace. 

Janeway kissed up the side of her neck gently and purred into her ear, “How about we take a nap together and see what happens.”

Seven smiled and pulled back slightly. Once Janeway gave her a curious look, Seven pressed forward with all that she had. The kiss was passionate, desperate, and a little salty from the tears that had escaped. She sucked Janeway’s bottom lip into her mouth and bit gently. Seven pulled back slightly and looked at Janeway who was looking adorably disheveled. There was saliva smeared on her open mouth and her cheekbones were a rosy pink. Every heaving breath shook the material of her robe, and Seven raked her eyes up and down. 

“Not that I’m complaining but, what was that for?” Janeway whispered.

“You’ve always been the one to kiss me. I’m simply evening the score,” Seven replied, going in for another kiss. “I do believe I have a few more until we’re even.”

-x-

After their nap, Seven and Janeway laid in her bed for hours just talking. Around the middle of the afternoon, both of their stomachs began to growl. They made their way to the kitchen. Janeway slid into the same stool while Seven rummaged through the refrigerator. Finally, she gave up and replicated a bowl of grapes. 

“I still can’t believe just how well you’ve aged,” Janeway remarked. “If I looked that good when I was Captain I-”

“You were,” Seven interjected. “Trust me. You have always been incredibly beautiful.”

“But when I saw you turn the corner into my office last night, I swooned. Seven, I’m Starfleet - we don’t swoon.”

“I have ‘swooned’ over you,” Seven admitted with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. 

“Oh?” was all Janeway said. 

“Stardate 52647, the Captain encourages Seven to expand her research on dating. She asks Seven to help her with a pip that has fallen. Seven can barely attach the pip due to the tremble in her hands. She is distracted by how dashing the Captain looks in her dress uniform.”

Janeway blushed and looked away. “Okay, I get it. You’re not the first to have a thing for uniforms.”

“Stardate 54895.57, Vice Admiral Kathryn Janeway appears on stage at the graduation ceremony for the Starfleet Academy class of 2382. She addresses the crowd with titillating passion - it is obvious that feels a great deal about the occasion. Seven is mesmerized by how regal the Admiral looks. High ranks only add to her beauty. She is important, she is experienced, and she is alluring. All of the feelings she had tried to bury spring forth like a plug had been pulled. It becomes hard to concentrate.”

“I wondered why you kept staring at me,” Janeway admitted. “I liked it, I won’t lie. That’s part of the reason that I lost my cool in the hallway.”

“Never apologize for that,” Seven turned around and faced Kathryn. She leaned back against the cupboards and slid herself onto the counter to sit. “I needed that reminder. At the time, it left a painful ache all over my body. But, I looked back to that moment frequently.”

“It wasn’t one of my finest moments.” 

“Same for me. Does it have to be fine?” Seven asked, bouncing her bare heels off the cupboards. “Can’t it just be a moment between us?”

Janeway stood and walked over to her. She moved to slide up on the counter but was stopped when Seven grabbed her hand and pulled her between her knees. Her eyes widened as Seven plucked a grape from the stem and popped it into her mouth. 

“What was that for?” Janeway asked while chewing. 

Seven answered by pulling her close and kissing her deeply. She smiled into the kiss when she realized that Janeway’s fists were clenched on each side of her thighs. 

“It’s the Janeway code of ethics: always leave people fuller and happier than when you found them.”

“Oh,” Kathryn whispered. “Yes, of course, it is. You’ve done just that.”

“Made you happier?” Seven teased.

Janeway shook her head and fed Seven a grape.

“Found me.”


End file.
